


Chest Pass To My Heart

by RyderWryter



Series: Chest Pass To My Heart <3 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Angst, Bartender Keith (Voltron), Basketball, Bonding, Brotherly Love, Dramatic Irony, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Fireworks, Fluff, Gay Feelings, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, Keith and Lance bonded over family issues when they were younger, Lance is stupid and Keith is a dumbass, Lance's Dad left, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Alternating, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Team Voltron!, Texting, Underage Drinking, bc Pidge is only 20, cursing, dumb fuckery, dumb nicknames, fake literature, mentions of unwanted advances and bullying, minor blood and injury, some depression/anxiety, streetball, they're so hot for each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 76,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyderWryter/pseuds/RyderWryter
Summary: What was Keith thinking? He knew Lance. He *knew* him. It wasn’t the time to get distracted with his looks-And that was when Lance met his eyes. Keith felt weak in the knees. He couldn’t breathe or swallow the spit accumulating in his mouth or even blink. He was captured in Lance’s gaze. Enraptured by it.Damn near enamored.~The Volcats were in desperate need of new players to fill their team. Luckily, the Tron Lions proved to be as skilled as they were interesting.Form Vol...tron?Or, a slow burn where Keith and Lance fall in love as they learn each other, but Keith already knows Lance and Lance has apparently forgotten him completely...
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Chest Pass To My Heart <3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910236
Comments: 68
Kudos: 128





	1. a kiss with a fist is better than none - lance's pov

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this thing for a month and I'm still not done O.O  
> Anyway! I'm so excited to start sharing this, I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> Also, this story isn't an accurate depiction of anything really, most certainly not streetball competitions lol I've researched a lot but it's just easier making my own thing up, so I did!  
>   
> Any info you'd like will *hopefully* be in my masterpost: https://ryderwryter.tumblr.com/CPTMHmasterpost  
> There'll be art and visuals and info in there that I'll be linking and adding as I go! :) (not required to read the fic!)
> 
> PLAYLIST: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sGyHERwTYJri5w8S2nEpq?si=WewiE_SIRc-kGj6xSwqV0w  
> (made to be played in order, with songs for start of each chapter in description of playlist <3 but you can even shuffle if you so desire, though it won't have as much significance to the mood and such ^u^)

Time seemed to slow for Lance as he dribbled the ball. His chest heaved with the breaths he could hear in his ears as everything else quieted. One shot. All he needed to do was make one more shot. A rapid pulse thudded in his temple as beads of sweat ran down his face and neck.

His determined fingers grazed the ball, consistently bouncing it just out of reach of the opposing players. He could feel the pressure building up in his chest. The pressure to not disappoint. To win. His eyes desperately searched for an opening as the rest of his team was being tightly defended—impossible to get to.

It was up to him.

Lance was good at shooting from the three-point line, but dammit if the guy in front of him wasn’t built like a demigod. He towered over Lance’s tall frame, making a ranged shot nearly impossible. His only chance would be to drive through and attempt a layup as the other team was busy guarding his own.

But then again, Lance was really good at hitting threes. And trying to get past the beast of solid muscle in front of him felt like a good way to learn the hard way that it was futile. But he could also just-

“Throw the ball, _pendejo_!” One of his lovely teammates spat.

The word “teammate” being used loosely. In streetball, it felt like it was common to be on a team of complete strangers who had no idea how to play to each other’s strengths. Let alone care enough. The biggest thing was being aggressive, and being aggressive often.

Lance swallowed and decided _fuck it_.

He took a powerful jump, fading back as he released the ball in a gratifying arc. It flew just over the buff dude’s defending hands. And holy shit, it was going to make it in. Lance held his breath as he watched the ball slowly fall toward the hoop.

It was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

_Fuuuck_.

A dull pain throbbed through his nose, reminding him that he was alive. And that he had apparently been knocked out by the Titan defending him. He groaned as he sat up on the asphalt, blinking back to reality. His head pounded as his ears picked up on the yelling.

“Foul! There’s fucking blood, dipshit.” Another one of his teammates.

Aw, they were concerned.

“He would’ve gotten it in if you hadn’t clubbed him!”

Oh, so he missed. And he lost them the game. But if he was bleeding, then that meant it really was a foul. As the streetball saying goes, “no blood, no foul.” If it was agreed to be a foul, then they could possibly get another chance. He needed this. 

He would do better.

Lance tried to stand, shaking along the way, when two sturdy hands grabbed hold of him. “Alright, whippity snippet.” A familiar accented voice rang in his left ear. “Just wait a tick.”

He sat back down as his vision swirled with black spots. “Coran?” He croaked, surprised at the gravely sound of his own voice.

“Of course, who else would help you out? Surely, not these _Snicks_.” He huffed at the arguing players.

As usual, Lance had no idea what Coran was saying, but he was glad he was there. He swallowed thickly and looked up as his vision started clearing. There was his majestic unofficial mentor, bushy orange mustache to match his wonderfully slicked back orange hair, a signature curl hanging down in front of his forehead.

Somehow, Coran always managed to come into Lance’s life when he needed him most. It always seemed very random, but enough times made it feel purposeful. Though he’d never _expect_ Coran to come pick up his messes. He just happened to appear and give insightful advice. Whether it was about basketball or life, even love… 

Coran was someone that Lance appreciated immensely. Even though he didn’t really know where he lived or what he did for a living, he didn’t need to. He had enough talks with the man over the past three years in their local outdoor basketball court to get a good sense of what kind of guy he was.

Lance took in a deep breath, blinking through the pain in his nose. He finally noticed the warm liquid leaking from his right nostril. He wiped at it with his knuckle then pulled it away to see the blood. Coran handed him a handkerchief with a kind smile. Lance took it with a silent nod, holding it to his nose.

“Damn, he really hit me.” 

“No worries, youngster. Your nose isn’t broken. You just got a little jostled up. Should be good to go in an hour or so.” He smiled brightly.

Lance shook his head. “N-no.” He tried to stand again, but Coran gently held him down. “The game’s not done. T-there was a foul, right? We get another shot.”

“Not you, whippersnapper. They just replaced you”—Coran pointed to the newcomer talking to Lance’s team of strangers—“as you are out of commission for the time being. No big deal, it was only a pickup game. Not the end of the world.” Coran comforted him, knowing how Lance used to obsessively worry over disappointing his team. People he didn’t know. In games that didn’t matter.

Lance only occasionally worried about it now.

He sighed, leaning back on his hand, watching the final bit of _his_ game begin to play out. “Right. Doesn’t matter.” He echoed.

And it really didn’t, because ever since Lance had started playing basketball for fun, he remembered how much he actually loved the game. He wouldn’t have been in the old, beaten up outdoor court just to play with a bunch of aggressive strangers if he _didn’t_.

It was somewhat exhilarating. Doing something just for the sake of having fun. Not to mention the addictive adrenaline high. But there was a freedom to it. No pressure. It was just something Lance did for his own being.

He loved his mom, his family, but it was nice having one thing for himself.

“I came by last week to see if you were playing again, but I didn’t see you. Seems as though you’ve been pretty busy lately.” Coran sat down next to him on the asphalt.

Lance leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he released a breath. “Yeah. I’ve been working more lately… Mamá needs the help.” He shrugged, trying to seem casual.

But Coran knew him better than that. 

“You know, my offer still stands.” Lance’s shoulders tensed. “In fact, there’s a pretty good opportunity coming up due to some rather unfortunate circumstances”—he stroked his moustache as a frown briefly overtook his face—“but nevertheless, you still have options. You’re a talented player. As much as you seem to bridle yourself with worry. If we just work on that, then you could enjoy-”

“Thanks, Coran, but like I said… I’m fine. I like my job now. And I’m not good enough to compete in the Garrison Championships.” He gave a humorless laugh.

Coran huffed at him. “What the _quiznak_ are you talking about? Your team placed fifth two years ago! That’s no easy feat.” He complimented.

Lance sniffed, feeling the blood trickling back down his face. “Yeah, but we didn’t _win_. We lost our money.” Lance nearly choked on the bitter memory. Just the look on his mother’s face when he told her he “misplaced” the money she let him borrow… It was enough to keep Lance far from doing something that stupid again. “And I hear it’s become an even bigger event. Meaning _more_ money for the entrance fee, which I couldn’t afford. And that's if I’d even pass my bracket.” He sighed.

“Hm, seems like you gave it a thought, huh?” Coran placed a knowing fatherly hand on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance just bit his tongue.

Yeah, he had thought about it. A lot. Streetball was rapidly becoming more popularized with the major events. Which meant more ways for casual teams to earn money. Good money. And money was something Lance couldn’t get enough of. He loved his job, but it didn’t pay as much as he’d like.

Not to mention, it was something fun when he felt confident in himself. When he _didn’t_ feel the quivering nerves of incompetence threatening to overtake him. But with so much money on the line, it was hard not to feel the pressure.

So Lance stayed far from it.

He had enough going on.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Lance stood up, feeling his strength returning. “I don’t know why you even bother with a no good runt like me.” He gave a laugh, watching his mentor stand as well.

Coran looked at him seriously. “You’re good enough. You’re _better_ than enough, boy. You just don’t let yourself see it.” He said matter-of-factly. “To see it would make you responsible for it. It’d make you have to do something about your potential.” He smiled, but there was a soft sadness in his violet eyes.

“Okay, I know you’ve been really great to me all these years, and mostly right about things”—Coran happily nodded his head in agreement—“but I’m just me, Coran. I honestly don’t know what you see in me. I’m just some dumb kid trying to get through life.”

“Well, that’s certainly no way to live.”

“At least I’m still here.” He mumbled with a small shrug.

Even with Lance’s hushed tone and the loud squeaking of old sneakers, Coran heard him. “Not a day goes by that I’m not entirely grateful for that.” He gave Lance a warm smile.

Lance swallowed, lifting the handkerchief back to Coran. “Thanks. For everything.” 

He meant it in everything that the man had done for him over the years. For the advice, the comfort, the shoulder to cry on, the motivation. All for some random kid who had been looking to fill a void by any means necessary.

He was the man who helped him channel that feeling into something constructive. Offering him well-placed guidance, never making it seem like he was telling Lance what to do. Always just talking to him like a normal person.

Lance didn’t know how he’d ever make it up to him. He owed Coran a lot, and there the man was still trying to help him out.

“For what it’s worth, I see a lot of myself in you. And I know you don’t know how _entirely_ successful I am”—Coran teased as he smirked, twirling his moustache with a twinkle in his eye—“but that’s a compliment.”

What a Coran thing to say.

Lance huffed a laugh, an infectious smile curling onto his face. “Yeah, you’re pretty great. It’s surreal to have been blessed with such flattery.” He joked though he meant it. “I should probably get going.” He sighed, unable to ignore the throbbing in his nose. He didn’t see the point in waiting around the park for an hour until he could play again, and his mom was expecting him to be home soon anyway. “I’ll see ya around, Coran.” Lance gave a wave as he walked backward.

“Don’t forget, if you ever need anything, just give me a call!” He waved excitedly in that eccentric way of his.

Lance smiled at him one last time before turning around to walk properly. 

He leaned down to pick up his drawstring bag at the corner of the court, grabbing his phone out from one of the pockets. The blue bag hung from his shoulders as he made his way back home. His fingers instinctively brushed along the case of his phone as he walked.

Coran gave Lance his phone number about a year after they met when they knew each other a little better. It had been two years since then, and Lance still hadn’t utilized the number. There wasn’t much that Lance couldn’t do himself, and if he did need help, he didn’t feel right inconveniencing the orange-haired man.

He already relied on him too much.

Lance let go of a long breath, wiping the last rivulets of blood away from his nose with the back of his hand. Passersby gave his bloody appearance a weird look. He didn’t blame them, but it was strange they even noticed. In Lance’s experience, people in the city didn’t usually care much. He ignored the pedestrians around him and instead looked up at the tall buildings. 

Lance wondered what it felt like to work somewhere high with a city view.

Skyscrapers in general hadn’t impressed him since he was seven, but on the rare occasion when he was able to experience the gut-dropping sensation of being that high up, he enjoyed every second. Not just because of how butterflies soared in his stomach, but because of the _view_. 

It took his breath away every time.

His apartment complex only went up five stories, so even though his family lived on the fourth floor, it wasn’t as extraordinary a view. That wasn’t to say it was awful, but with so many other tall buildings hiding the beautiful scenery, it wasn’t much. 

His feet eventually led him home, scuffing up the concrete steps to the building’s entrance. The drawstring bag was temporarily slung off his shoulders for Lance to dig through, reaching around blindly for his keys. His hand grazed metal, causing the item to sound with a delightful jingle before he grasped it.

Lance unlocked the outer door and booked it up the steps, easily taking two at a time. A luxury his long legs blessed him with. At that pace, he reached the fourth floor in less than half a minute, though there hadn’t been a reason to race. Lance was just ready to take a shower and lay on his bed to stare at the ceiling for no real reason. 

It was one of those days.

And if he was going to get that alone time, he had to get past his mom. But she was impossibly perceptive, especially when it came to her kids. Even as he tried to sneak down the hall, attempting to pass the kitchen where she was humming away with her back turned to him, she snapped her head around in a way that really had him wondering if she had eyes on the back of her head.

He should’ve known his bloodhound of a mother would notice him.

“¡Dios mío! Lance, what happened to your beautiful face?” She instantly put down her wooden spoon to rush to her son, caressing his injured face as her eyes widened with worry.

Lance gave his mom a warm smile, putting his hands over hers to gently take them off his sore face. “It’s nothing, Mamá. It looks worse than it is.” He promised.

He hadn’t actually gotten to see how it looked, but he felt like it couldn’t have been that bad. It wasn’t like he broke his nose or anything. It was just a nosebleed. And the pain was receding at least, although it was still tender. So, surely it wasn’t -

_Oh._

Lance’s mother had guided him to the bathroom, flipping on the light for Lance to truly see what he looked like. He silently stood in front of the mirror, taking in his appearance. Beyond the usual tousled hair and expected smattering of blood across his white cutoff was a blossom of deep purple and red kissing the sides of his nose. It wasn’t terribly large, but it was definitely noticeable. He leaned in closer to the mirror to inspect the small cut on the ridge of his nose.

Lance turned around to face his mom and shrugged. “See, Mamá? It’s just a little scratch. It’ll heal within a couple days.”

“Oh, yeah.” His mom agreed sarcastically, jutting her hip out in a sassy stance. “A _nasal contusion_ will somehow heal that fast.” She huffed, then looked at him with a confusing mix of concern and disapproval. “What the hell happened, mijo?”

Ah, she was upset. Of course she’d be.

Lance groaned as he leaned against the bathroom counter, looking down to avoid his mother’s intense stare. “I was, uh, just playing basketball. The guy guarding me was a bit rough.” He swallowed, waiting for the lecture that was always mostly out of worry.

He didn’t get one.

Instead, he just felt his mother’s warm arms wrapping around him, and Lance instantly relaxed in her embrace. He took a deep breath as he laid his head on her shoulder. He preferred the hug over a lecture. She was upset, but probably more so that her baby got hurt, and that she wasn’t there to beat up the person responsible. 

That was his Mamá.

“Please don’t play against those cabrónes again.” She pleaded, pulling away to look into her son’s eyes.

“Ay, Mamá, _language_.” He teased, a smirk creeping onto his face.

She lightly whacked him with her hand, rolling her eyes. “Lunch will be ready in a bit. Now take a shower, you stink.” She quipped back.

He laughed as he watched her leave.

When the bathroom door was closed, Lance leaned toward the mirror again, examining his face and wincing as he lightly prodded his nose. _Damn_. There was no way getting around it. 

Lance got fucked up.

He dreaded going into work the next day. Hunk would ask all sorts of questions that Lance wouldn’t even begin to know how to answer. Working with his friend in his family’s bakery had its perks, but it also had downsides.

Lance loved the Garrets, they were like a second family, but they tended to over worry. He already had his mom to do that, he didn’t want to trouble others with those feelings. Especially since it was about _him_. It made him feel guilty. Almost unworthy of such kindness. But he knew they just loved him.

As Lance stepped out of his much needed shower and started drying his hair, he noticed his phone had been blowing up with a bunch of texts from a certain little gremlin. He smiled at his dumb new name for his friend as he glanced at the notifications.

Since it was Pidge, he figured they were probably geeking out over another invention they were making. He’d read the messages after he got dressed because Pidge was likely to call as soon as Lance texted back. And as much as he loved the kid, he wasn’t about to have a phone conversation with them while he was naked.

He didn’t think it was anything major, but when Lance was fully dressed and began reading the texts, he started to worry.

**(14:46) Pidgetty Cricket:** Lance. I need you to meet me at Riverside Park ASAP. Like preferably ten minutes ago.

**(14:53) Pidgetty Cricket:** Dude, you better not be playing at Atlas again. Please see these texts.

**(15:01) Pidgetty Cricket:** For the love of everything in this great, big universe please answer me. It’s important.

**(15:09) Pidgetty Cricket:** ok shitface i dont usualy text repeatdly so u know this is important so u better get ur ass here before i punch u in the face

If only they could see his face.

**(15:15) Pidgetty Cricket:** Lance dickwad McClain get ur ass over here. I’ll pay you 20 bucks

Lance quickly typed a reply.

**(15:17) Lance:** okay deal

**(15:17) Pidgetty Cricket:** ohfuuuucckkk yoouuu dude, u answer to that?! get over here!

**(15:17) Lance:** is everything okay?

Lance furrowed his brows at his little friend. They didn’t call. That was weird. 

**(15:18)** **Pidgetty Cricket:** yeah, things are great, but we have a meeting

**(15:18) Lance:** a meeting? wtf are u talkin about

**(15:18) Pidgetty Cricket:** can u make it or not?

**(15:18) Lance:** can it be later? I’m about to eat lunch with my mom

**(15:19) Pidgetty Cricket:** You’re making this transaction tense. 

_Transaction?_

Lance sighed, confused as to what the hell was going on, but at least Pidge was back to texting with proper punctuation and grammar. When they didn’t bother with that stuff was when they were really irked. At least nothing life-threatening was going on. 

He hoped.

He pocketed his phone and walked out to the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?” He leaned over his mom to inspect what still needed fixing, but it looked as though his mother had finished with everything.

“Don’t worry about it, mijo. I’m done, and your friend called while you were in the shower. You need to meet them at Riverside as soon as possible.” She urged him, her curly brown hair bouncing as she bobbed her head expectantly at him. “It sounded important.”

He didn’t know what compelled Pidge to call his mom, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t starting to make him curious. “But what about lunch with you?” Lance countered.

“I’ll be fine, the kids will be over after school, and the food will be here when you get back, now go. Go!” She shooed him.

Lance barely had time to put on his shoes before he was ushered out the door. He took a moment to smile at the closed apartment door. His mom was pretty great… 

Lance decided it would be faster just to call Pidge as he walked.

They picked up in three seconds.

“Lance?” They sounded a little frantic.

“Uh, yeah. Is everything alright? I know you said yeah before, but my mom just banished me from the house saying I had to go meet you. What’s so urgent?” He jogged down the stairs.

“Oh, thank god. When will you get here?” They ignored his questions.

Lance was starting to get a little impatient, but he just huffed a breath as he walked out of his building, feeling the warm breeze drying his wet hair. “I can get to Riverside in five minutes if I jog.”

“Fucking sprint, dude.” Pidge said, then hung up.

_What the fuck?_

Lance held his phone tightly as he ran, carefully maneuvering among the mildly populated sidewalks. He was glad he decided to wear another pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. It wasn’t insanely hot, but it was still the beginning of April. And there wasn’t much airflow with the big buildings blocking the bit of wind that came from the Arus River.

Exactly three minutes and forty-eight seconds later, Lance arrived at Riverside Park. His chest heaved with exertion as he slowed his gait to a light jog, taking in the familiar grounds. The basketball courts, where Lance was most likely meeting Pidge, were to his far left. But he didn’t pay them much attention. He slowed his strides further to a comfortable walk, letting his eyes skim across the beautiful stretch of land before him.

It held nostalgic swing sets and playgrounds. The paths of concrete and strategically placed benches were well-known to Lance. And just beyond the expanse of grass and trees laid the Arus River, wafting refreshing winds across the park. Yeah, so Riverside Park was rather literal, but damn he loved it. He almost forgot why he stopped coming here.

But he quickly felt his heart clench in his chest at a painfully familiar statue, prompting him to focus on his task. He averted his gaze and made his way over to the clean basketball courts. Much nicer than the ones in Atlas Park, that was for sure. But Atlas was the only other park close enough to him that had decent basketball courts, so he made do.

He saw his short friend accompanied by several others. Rather tall others. Their back was to him, but he’d recognize Pidge’s hair anywhere. As he got closer he noticed Hunk was there too, talking to some people that Lance didn’t bother looking at. He just needed to talk to Pidge and finally find out what they were freaking out about.

He walked up, his breath finally back to normal after his run. “Hey.” He breathed.

Pidge swirled around at the sound of his voice. “Oh, thank fuck-” As soon as they saw his injury, their face scrunched up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh, well, you rushed me to get here, so I was sprinting, like you said to, and I literally ran right into a Mob boss, so her minions beat me up for my insolence.”

Pidge rolled their eyes as Hunk gaped at his face. “Dude, your poor face!” He gathered him up into a hug. “What happened? Who was it? Do I know their mom? Was it Rolo? How did you run into Rolo again?”

Lance huffed a laugh as Hunk let him down. He just shrugged, unable to possibly answer the majority of those questions. “It happens. But let’s focus.” He faced Pidge once again. “What the fuck is going on, you little shit?”

They just gave a mischievous grin. “Oh, you wouldn’t be calling me that if you knew what was going on.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s a good fucking point.” He noted sarcastically. “How about filling me in?”

“Alright, asshole.” They grinned despite their words, bringing him down to their level to whisper to him. “How would you like to make a shit ton of money?”

“For the last time, Pidge, I’m not interested in selling drugs. Even as a joke.” Lance sighed.

Hunk huddled in with them, completing their circle of absurdity.

Pidge gripped Lance’s hoodie more firmly, slightly shaking him. “No, you dipshit. Just listen-”

“That’s all I’ve been trying to do!” 

He just wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

“Funny, if that were true, you wouldn’t have just interrupted me.” They narrowed their eyes on him.

“Guys, please.” Hunk whispered excitedly. “Just tell him, Pidge.”

“Okay, so I know we just play for fun now or whatever, well, ever since half our team quit after we lost like _so_ fucking bad. And since then we’ve only been entering the casual 3v3s since it’s just us three, not making a whole lot of money in the process—even though we’re good!—and-”

“Pidge, the point.” Lance’s jaw clenched. His heart had picked up ever since Pidge mentioned their previous team. He could already tell he wasn’t going to like where they were going.

“I’m getting there! So, we can’t make the big bucks unless we have a full team and no one really wants to play with losers like us, but lucky for you guys… I got us a team! We can compete in the Streetball Champs again! Or, well, at least we _qualify_ , we’d still have to win our bracket…”

Pidge’s voice faded as Lance felt his stomach start to unsettle. Breathing felt like it was getting a little harder, so he stood straight up. He watched Pidge’s mouth move but was unable to hear any of their words. His heart thudded in his ears as he focused his eyes beyond his friend at the park full of lively people.

At least someone was having a good time because Lance was most definitely not.

The river’s breeze swept across him, whipping his short hair gently as he swallowed thickly. “I-I… can’t.” He whispered, but he didn’t think anyone could hear him. 

Maybe he hadn’t actually said it out loud, because Pidge kept going.

“...I mean, with _them_ we’ll be good enough, and you’re already a fucking god on the court, so I really don’t see-”

“Pidge.” Lance heard Hunk stop them.

He could feel both their stares, but couldn’t bring himself to look at them just yet.

Yeah, he wanted _so_ badly to be excited about having a full team again. At having another opportunity to play seriously, to win the prize money, but he couldn’t do it. He just… he wasn’t good enough, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially not his mom. He already fucked up once regarding the Championships and entrance money, and he wasn’t about to do it again.

No, he couldn’t risk that.

His eyes skimmed around instinctively as he was about to voice his thoughts on the matter, because there was no way in hell he was competing again, but his eyes caught something strikingly beautiful. A raven haired vision with intense indigo eyes. Eyes trained on _him_. 

Lance felt his mouth dry and salivate in one confusing go, but it wasn’t enough of an oddity to shake his gaze from the beautiful person. They looked like a Michelangelo sculpture, smooth and hard and perfect. Stunning pale skin wrapped around wonderfully toned muscles. 

Lance had a compelling urge to touch them.

The person still hadn’t broken eye contact, and stupidly, neither had Lance.

Pidge must’ve noticed his staring because they started talking again. “Oh, meet our new team members! The guy you’re having a staring contest with is Keith.” The guy named Keith looked away at Pidge’s words, and if Lance didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn there was a light blush dusted across the guy’s cheeks.

Lance couldn’t decide whether he felt relieved or dissatisfied at the loss of eye contact.

Pidge started pointing to the people standing around Keith as they introduced the rest of them, but Lance still had his eyes trained on the insanely attractive individual. There was something oddly familiar about the alluring guy, but he just couldn’t place it. 

“The guy to his left is Takashi.” Pidge gripped Lance’s shoulder and walked him closer to the group of strangers.

Lance’s eyes finally left Keith to look at the tall guy next to him. Also strikingly handsome with dark hair, kind eyes, and an intriguing scar that ran across his nose. “You can just call me Shiro.” The guy smiled, holding out a hand for Lance.

He stared dumbly at it for a moment before snapping back to reality. “Oh, uh, hi. I’m Lance.” He shook Shiro’s strong hand.

“We’ve heard a lot about you, Lance.” Shiro smiled brightly at him. “Pidge speaks very highly of you.”

Lance let out a laugh. “Pidge has? Whatever they said, it’s probably not true-”

“No, no! Lance is just modest.” Pidge waved a hand in front of their face, then laughed a little too loudly. “Anyway, this last dipshit here is my brother, Matt. You’ve probably met once or twice before.”

Oh, yeah.

Matt was Lance’s first guy crush. He still remembered the one time Pidge had invited him and Hunk over to their house in middle school. He hadn’t ever spoken to the guy, but he definitely remembered Matt. Tall, light-brown and floofy haired, Matt with the sparkly eyes.

Lance wondered if he died and went to a place full of hot guys. Maybe he was still unconscious at Atlas.

Matt sighed, shaking his head. “Keep talking to me that way, little sis, and you’re going to have to find a new team.” He teased with a smirk, then looked to Lance with a warm smile. “Good to see you again, Lance.”

Okay, so he was 110% sure he’d gotten over that crush, but dammit if Matt’s tender tone didn’t make Lance’s stomach fill with butterflies.

“Allura should be here sometime soon.” Shiro noted. “She was the only one of us who wasn’t off work today, so she’s coming on her lunch break.”

No doubt she would be just as hot. This wasn’t good for his health. Lance was going to have a heart attack at the age of twenty-one.

He swallowed before beginning to ask. “Who’s Allu-”

Pidge was quick to respond, noticeably eager. “Allura is their manager.”

Lance scrunched his brows. “Manager? For _what_?”

“Their _team_.” Pidge answered, a little incredulously. 

“Basketball?” He asked dumbly, but he honestly didn’t know what the hell they’d need a manager for.

“Streetball technically, but yeah.” Hunk added, nodding.

“A streetball team that has a _manager_? What kind of alternate reality is this?” Lance blurted.

Pidge rolled their eyes. “It’s because they only focus on the _serious_ competitions, the 5v5s. Basically Tier 1 in the Streetball Competition.” They explained.

“Is that even allowed?” Lance wondered out loud.

“I wondered the same thing.” Hunk laughed nervously. “But, uh, I checked and there’s no rule against having an organized representative. In fact, most of the teams that make it to the Championships have one.”

“What? Since when?” Lance blinked as his face scrunched up in confusion. He’d never heard of that. They didn’t have a manager when they got to the Tier 1 Champs two years prior.

“Since Tier 1 of the Garrison Streetball Competition was implemented.” Shiro answered with a smile. “So for about seven years.”

_Oh._ Lance forgot he was talking right in front of them.

But he supposed that made some sense. Since Tiers 2 and 3 were dedicated to casual players, 3v3ers and individuals respectively, they never had a need for managers. Especially since the stakes were rather low. There wasn’t as big of an entrance fee for them, meaning less of a reward. But with Tier 1, everything was more intense. The Garrison Streetball Competition’s administrator literally created it to give serious 5v5 teams a chance to win a grand cash prize, and to profit off the entertaining games.

It wasn’t entirely ludicrous for a serious team to have a manager, especially if they made it to the Final Sixteen, the Championships. Someone had to look over the contracts and handle the entrance fees, then evenly distribute the winnings if their team won. It was a good idea. Safe.

The Championships were getting more popular every year, meaning more ticket sales and winnings. So, having a manager seemed like a good idea for a Tier 1 team.

But Lance wasn’t Tier 1 material. He’d already decided he belonged in Tier 2. Where he was comfortable. Where he knew he could dominate. Where he wouldn’t disappoint anyone… 

Lance sighed. “I don’t think I-” He cut himself off to skillfully catch the basketball thrown at him. He looked over to the person responsible.

Keith looked at him with an almost bored expression. “Show me what you got.”

Something clicked in Lance as a fire licked through his limbs, making his skin buzz with anticipation. That guy kind of looked like Lance’s best friend freshman year of high school. It was mostly in his intense indigo stare because his best friend hadn’t had luxurious hair like that. Yurak always had a buzz cut. 

But Lance knew it couldn’t have been him.

He quickly shook off his feelings of nostalgia and focused.

His heart pumped a jittering excitement through his body at the pale guy’s demand. Why did that one statement make him feel so eager to show off? Why did he feel such a strong urge to prove himself to the raven haired hottie? Did it have anything to do with how his face resembled his friend?

He decided not to overthink it.

“You’re on, mullet.” Lance smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, lance will be putting ice on his injury
> 
> chapter title from Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine
> 
> Thank you for reading!! <3


	2. bittersweet meet - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if you don't listen to the playlist { https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sGyHERwTYJri5w8S2nEpq?si=WewiE_SIRc-kGj6xSwqV0w } I highly recommend listening to Streets by Doja Cat when Keith first notices Lance. It's such a mood <333  
> I hope you enjoy!

Keith tugged on his sneakers before he walked out of his small apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. He let go of a long sigh as he trudged down the stairs. Hands habitually shoved into his pockets. He felt a few buzzes from his phone, but Keith didn’t bother to look at it just yet.

It was probably Shiro.

He was meeting up with him and Matt at Riverside. Apparently they were “interviewing” some potential teammates. Matt said they were good, but Keith was skeptical. He thought the whole thing was stupid. No one was good enough to help them get to the Champs this year.

The whole thing sucked.

They  _ had  _ good teammates, really talented ones. It was too bad they turned out to be total fuckwads. All three of them. 

_ Stupid assholes _ .

Keith sighed harshly as he yanked his phone out of his pocket.

**(15:05) Shiro:** Hey, bro. Are you headed over? We’re just waiting on you and their third player. He should be here soon.

**(15:08) Keith:** I’ll be there in five

He knew it was more like an eight minute walk to Riverside, but he doubted Shiro would really notice. Plus, if they were still waiting on another guy, then Keith felt like he was fine. Not that he exactly cared. He was feeling awfully pessimistic about the whole thing.

**(15:09) Shiro:** Also, be nice when you get here. We know you have standards, but you can have human decency at the same time. Love you.

Keith couldn’t even argue with his brother. It was true. He had a tendency to be a little… harsh. He just knew talent when he saw it, and the people they had already talked to over the past few months were far from it. So, yeah, he may have let his mouth run a little, but he wasn’t trying to be intentionally cruel. He just gave his honest opinion.

Keith took the Streetball Competition seriously. He had to. That extra money was everything to him. His job paid decently, but apartments weren’t cheap. Even studios. And as much as he loved his brother, he wouldn’t accept his money. Keith was the one who decided to move out at eighteen and sulk all on his own.

Nearly three and a half years later and there Keith was, still having a hard time paying rent. Not to mention, he was trying to save for college. But living on his own had gotten easier in some ways over the years. In fact, he learned a lot in that first year by himself. Paying for utilities was a thing, and it happened monthly. Just like all the other shitty bills that yelled at him.

So, yeah, Keith needed the money, but no, he wasn’t looking for handouts. He was prepared to work hard for his wage. He didn’t want pity. And he most definitely didn’t want to go to his adoptive parents for a bail-out. He avoided them like the plague because he was just some orphan runt taken in by a rich family wanting to make themselves look charitable.

But Keith wasn’t a charity case. He wasn’t a sad story or cautionary tale. He was  _ Keith  _ fucking  _ Kogane _ , and that was it.

The only good thing that came from being adopted into that family was his brother, Shiro. Whereas their parents were cold and distant, worried about trivial rich people things, Shiro was always warm and caring. He practically raised Keith since he was fifteen. Shiro didn’t have to say it for Keith to know he was glad to have him in his life. Because Shiro had been just as alone as Keith before they met each other.

**(15:11) Keith:** I’ll try.

And he would. For Shiro, because he owed his brother a lot. And maybe actually being a good person would be beneficial in some way… He didn’t know how yet, but he was going to find out.

He sighed as he pulled his phone back out to shoot Shiro one last text.

**(15:12) Keith:** love you too

About five minutes later, Keith finally arrived at the park and headed toward the basketball courts. He was familiar with Riverside. It was the closest park to his apartment, so he practiced there often. It was nice as far as public, outdoor courts went.

He walked up behind his brother and Matt, noticing two other figures with them. A short punk furiously texting away on a phone and a muscular linebacker of a dude. He could definitely see the larger one being useful, but he was wondering how the shorty would prove themselves.

“I’m here.” Keith came up to stand next to his team.

Shiro turned to smile at his brother. “Nice of you to join us. Five minutes, huh?” He raised a brow.

Damn, he really didn’t think he’d notice.

“Uh,” he realized there were only two new people. “At least I’m not the last one to get here.” He pointed out under his breath. “Where is this third player anyway?”

Shiro shifted in his spot, looking at the short kid that reminded Keith a little bit of Matt. “He’s on his way. Pidge is messaging him now.” Shiro motioned his head toward the kid.

“Pidge?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

Matt peeked out from behind Shiro’s side. “My little sister. They don’t look like much, but they’ll surprise you.” He smiled proudly.

The resemblance made sense to him now. 

“Hey, Matt.” Keith nodded to him. “Your sister plays in the Streetball Comp?”

“Yeah, they’ve played in it the past couple of years, mostly Tier 2, which I know you don’t find very impressive, but their team won first place in the Tier 2 Champs last year. That’s pretty fuckin’ great, no?” He smiled brightly.

Keith could feel the optimism exuding off him. 

He just crossed his arms. “They  _ sound  _ good, but I want to know how they play.”

“I’m sure you’ll be happily surprised.” Shiro added. “I actually watched a couple of their Championship bracket games last year with Matt. They killed. Easily the best team out there.”

Keith nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but they sure sounded like the best out of all the people they had already talked to. 

“Lance?” The kid named Pidge answered their phone.

_ Lance _ … 

_ Lance, Lance, Lance. _

Why did that sound really familiar?

He couldn’t quite place the name, and it irked the shit out of him.

“Fucking sprint, dude.” Keith heard Matt’s sister whisper loudly into their phone before hanging up.

“Sorry about that, guys.” They chuckled nervously, then finally noticed Keith. “Oh, uh, hi! Keith, right?” He nodded. “I’m Pidge, and this is Hunk. We’re two-thirds of the Tron Lions.” They gave a wide smile.

Keith swallowed and remembered he was trying to be nice.  _ Personable _ . “Hi, I’m Keith. _ " Idiot. _ They knew that already. “Uh, it’s nice to meet you guys. I hope you play as well as I’ve been hearing.” He cleared his throat.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Shiro trying not to smile. 

_ Fucking dick. _

“Yeah, we’re amazing!” Pidge hyped. “I think we could really be beneficial to your team.”

“One hundred percent.” Hunk pitched in. “And as much as we think we’re good, psh, wait til you see Lance.” He laughed. “He's the sole reason we made it into the Championships for Tier 2 last year.”

Pidge nodded. “Yeah, dude. Hunk and I were  _ not  _ having a good day, but Lance just picked up our slack and we somehow managed to win. I have no bad words for him, but don’t tell him I said that.” They threatened playfully.

Keith swallowed. “Uh, okay, I won’t.” He was starting to feel awkward with how he was standing. Had it always been so hard to place his hands? He quickly started looking for something to do, and he spotted a couple basketballs in Shiro’s gym bag. He silently squatted down to pick one out.

“When’s Allura getting here?” Keith heard Matt ask, most likely to Shiro.

He picked out a basketball and stood with it, listening to the conversation moving on without him, much to his satisfaction.

“She should be here in a little bit. Her lunch break was later today than it usually is.” Shiro informed the group.

Keith sorta tuned them out as he started to spin the basketball on his index finger. Over the years, it just became second nature to him, so he could easily switch fingers without messing up. It wasn’t even a challenge, but at least it was something he could do with his hands.

It helped distract him until the other player arrived. In fact, it distracted him so well that Keith didn’t even realize when the guy showed up. He noticed when all three of them were huddled into an odd little circle, whispering loudly to each other. 

Keith could only see that he had wispy brown hair and tan skin. Hunk was mostly blocking him from his sight, so he just stared at the group expectantly. The ball in his hands stilled as he rested it on his hip.

Movement from the third player caught his attention. The guy stood straight up, out of the huddle, and stared off into the distance with a complicated expression. Keith would’ve thought it was weird if he hadn’t been so entirely struck by his face.

_ Lance _ .

That was  _ Lance _ . And even though he harbored purple bruises on the sides of his nose, Keith still recognized him. Lance McClain. Still as attractive as ever—not that that mattered or was important in any way, but Keith sure as hell noticed.

It was hard not to be hit with his beauty.

Lance was lean and tall, golden-skinned, and  _ so  _ handsome. Even with his injury, he was still gorgeous. Keith could see his blue eyes clearly, even at the angle. The afternoon sun had been hiding behind the clouds for most of the day, but at that moment, soft sunbeams seemed to frame him, making him look absolutely ethereal.

_ Fuck _ . What was Keith thinking? He knew Lance. He  _ knew  _ him. It wasn’t the time to get distracted with his looks-

And that was when Lance met his eyes. Keith felt weak in the knees. He couldn’t breathe or swallow the spit accumulating in his mouth or even blink. He was captured in Lance’s gaze. Enraptured by it.

Damn near enamored.

He probably should've looked away. Done anything other than what he chose to do, which was just stare straight back at Lance. Drinking him up with his eyes like a man dying of thirst. 

He barely remembered they were in front of other people. It wasn’t until Pidge spoke did he remember himself. “Oh, meet our new team members! The guy you’re having a staring contest with is Keith.”

Keith immediately broke their locked gaze, completely embarrassed. He hoped his cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt. Pidge’s words had made him realize just how ridiculous he had acted. It made his heart thud even harder in his chest than it already was. Just looking at Lance made it go crazy.

He was too fucking weak. No more looking. He needed to focus because that was  _ Lance _ . And-

He could still feel Lance’s stare on him. His skin burned with a satisfying heat that somehow also turned him into a complete nervous wreck. If he weren’t busy holding onto the basketball, he was sure his hands would be shaking. The feeling of Lance’s gaze lit him on fire. Did Lance recognize him too? He wanted to look back so bad his chest heaved with something thick and heavy.

Oh, god.

Was Keith really  _ longing  _ for him right now? He was a disgrace. Just pitiful, really.

“The guy to his left is Takashi.” He heard Pidge announce.

Keith felt Lance’s eyes leave him.

He didn’t know whether he should’ve felt relieved or disappointed.

But the good thing was Keith felt himself slowly returning back to normal. He swallowed and held himself properly, with the confidence he knew he had. He focused on his breathing as he tuned out the conversation around him.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

He was supposed to be testing these new players. Seeing what they were made of. If they were worthy of being on his team. Because, yeah, Keith was  _ better _ than good, and he deserved nothing less from his teammates. He was going to make it to the Champs again, and that meant he  _ needed  _ the proper partners. He couldn’t just let his stupid heart get all gross and soft for some guy he really wanted to kiss and-

Keith took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

_ Okay, fucking cool it. _

When he opened his eyes, Lance had a contemplative look on his cute, injured face. One that almost looked a little sad, wistful.

Keith didn’t know why, but it made his heart hurt. Even years ago, seeing Lance sad made Keith sad for some godforsaken reason. And Keith was usually very reasonable. He wasn’t like this. It was just Lance. He was… Keith didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was something very annoying.

Because Keith felt the urge to disrupt whatever thoughts were making Lance look so down.

“I don’t think I-” Lance had started, but Keith took the basketball he was holding and strongly chest passed it to him, eager to see if his reflexes were still as impressive as they were years ago.

He easily caught the ball, making Keith’s chest warm slightly.

Then Lance looked his way again, and all Keith could do to offset his feelings of desire was to give him his blankest stare twinned with a cold taunt. “Show me what you got.” He managed to speak without choking. 

Maybe being able to play against Lance again would help distract him from his own feelings.

“You’re on, mullet.” Lance smirked.

And Keith would’ve been charmed by his smile if it hadn’t been for his comment. It wasn’t even a fair one. Keith did  _ not  _ have a mullet. He thought it looked good, and the girls at his salon said it was a popular Korean hairstyle.

In a way, Keith appreciated the insult because it brought him back to reality. Lance wasn’t just a pretty face. He was a dirty mouth. And Keith could play that game.

“I hope you know how to defend.” He taunted, then turned to walk to the top of the nearest key, waiting for his opponent to take his place on the free-throw line and check the ball back to him.

He knew Lance could defend. Keith saw his footwork with his own eyes before.  _ Experienced  _ it. Though he got the feeling that Lance didn’t remember their time together. Keith  _ had  _ looked a bit different back when they first met. But Lance looked the same. A little taller, a little stronger maybe, but mostly the same.

He heard Lance shuffling in his direction. “Please,” He scoffed. “I’ll defend your ass so well you won’t know what to do with me.”

Keith repeated the word  _ Mullet _ over in his head so he wouldn’t focus too much on that statement. But he couldn’t deny he was getting a bit eager.

A smile nearly overtook his face as Lance gave him a determined gaze. 

Lance bounced the basketball back to him, starting their game. Keith instantly started pushing forward as he dribbled with experienced ease, but Lance was quick to defend.

_ Good. _

Keith turned away from the basket, strategically keeping the ball out of Lance’s reach as he kept his feet moving. His tall, lean form nearly hugged Keith from behind but was still careful not to touch him. There weren’t many fouls called in streetball, but Lance seemed to play with some respect. 

Keith nearly laughed at him.

He quickly faked right, then spun to his left to drive the ball home. But there Lance was again, keeping Keith on his toes. His defending stance wasn’t perfect, but Keith instantly saw the difference between Lance and the previous losers he had gone against. 

He had potential.

But Keith already knew that. He was just satisfied to see it still there after the years. To see he actually used it to improve. God, he could feel something inside him racing around, making his skin buzz with anticipation. He felt a fiery passion he hadn’t felt in a while.

Lance was making him excited.

Playing basketball had always mostly been about the money, but there was a time when Keith played for fun. When he used to  _ enjoy  _ it. Maybe the focused monetary gain made him jaded, but basketball just hadn’t been the same since he grew up. 

Then there was Lance.

It had been less than a minute into the game, and Keith could feel his veins being pumped with an unprecedented excitement. Enthusiasm. Something so raw and real that the secondary emotion of greed had no place within him.

Keith faced Lance, bouncing the basketball behind himself to catch in his opposite hand, still cautious to keep it out of his defender’s reach. He looked Lance in the eyes, unable to keep the flirtatious smile off his face. “I won’t know what to do with you, huh?” He smirked as Lance’s concentrated expression dropped slightly. Keith had caught him off guard, so he used that to drive to the side and shoot a shot he knew would land as Lance lagged behind. He turned to him again as the basketball  _ swished _ through the net. “I thought you said you were good at defending.”

Lance gave a low laugh, an intensity burning in his eyes as he smiled bitterly at Keith. “I  _ am _ . You just-”

“What?” Keith raised his brows, looking at him blankly. He knew he distracted him on purpose, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a dick about it. He kind of had to.

Lance swallowed, and Keith’s eyes followed the motion of his alluring throat.

Yeah. He needed to become Lance’s enemy before he became something equally as dangerous.

Attraction was deadly, but feelings were fatal.

“Did you  _ let _ me score?” Keith challenged as he flipped the low bouncing basketball up into his hands with the toe of his foot. “Wanna go again? Prove yourself to me?” He tried sounding like the asshole he knew he was, but there was an edge to it that held too much flirtation.

Lance huffed. “Let’s go.” There was a certain gleam in his eyes. Something driven.

Keith respected that.

He silently bounced the ball to Lance, easily catching it as he checked it back to him. And there the tall greek god was, quick at the start, guarding him with a reinforced zeal. Keith felt adrenaline start pumping through him as he dribbled along the half-court, trying to find an opening in Lance’s thorough defense.

They went back and forth like that for a full minute before Keith jumped back and let the orange synthetic leather leave his fingertips in an arc. Lance was incredibly close to blocking it as he jumped up, his sleeveless hoodie jumping up with him to reveal a sliver of that tan abdomen, but he was just a little too late in his move.

The ball sunk into the basket, scoring Keith another two points.

He let himself feel the satisfaction coursing through him.

“That was better.” Keith couldn’t help his compulsion to compliment when it was deserved. Lance seemed to brighten at that, but his face still held an earnest desire to beat Keith. He just smiled at him. “Better, but still not enough.”

“ _ Okaay _ , how about some three on three action?” Shiro smiled brightly, obviously trying to relieve some of the tension Keith was purposefully piling on.

Keith had nearly forgotten about everyone else. He’d been so consumed in his match. But he supposed Shiro had the right idea. They were there to see how well the Tron Lions played. To determine if they were going to be a good fit.

“Uh, sure. I’m down, but can I kick this guy’s ass real quick first?” Lance had sauntered up beside Keith and now had his thumb pointed at him.

Yeah, it seemed as though Lance didn’t remember him. He couldn’t even recall his name even though they’d just been freshly “introduced.”

Keith felt a little bitter.

Shiro laughed. “How about we try to see how well you two work  _ together _ ? You, Matt, and Keith on one team and Hunk, Pidge, and myself on the other. Sound good?”

Lance seemed a little hesitant to move on from kicking Keith’s ass, but he nodded anyway. Keith nearly laughed at his adorable little pout, but he was quickly brought back down to Earth as he was caught staring.

Keith just huffed a laugh, looking away. “Where the hell do you get your attitude from?”

“My Mamá.” The answer jumped off his tongue. “And where do you get  _ yours _ , guapo?”

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how to answer, so he said the first thing that came to mind. “Your face.” Then walked away, knowing his comeback was less than impressive.

Lance actually laughed. “What the hell kind of insult is that?”

“Just get into position.” Keith commanded, dribbling the ball in place at the top of the key.

He was about to see what their team was made of.

Keith would easily be able to see how well Hunk and Pidge could defend since they were on the opposite team. And with Lance on his team, he’d be able to get a sense of how he made himself available for Keith. Whether he decided to pass the ball to Lance or not was a different story.

Their first game started with Keith making an easy pass to Matt, who seemed glad to see Hunk’s eager defense. Keith made mental notes as he watched them play. They weren’t bad. No, they were  _ good _ . Hunk did well on defense, and Pidge surprised him with how they managed to keep Lance on his toes. They were quick. Smart.

Matt had passed the ball back to Keith to relieve the pressure he was receiving. He just dribbled along in front of his brother, looking for an opening. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lance motioning to him. He turned to look straight at the brunette.

Lance was open and eager. Keith liked the way he looked at him with enthusiasm. But he didn’t like the way he couldn’t control what he was feeling. Keith looked back to his brother as a thought went through his mind. He could easily pass to Lance, but what if he just  _ didn’t _ .

In one quick moment, he faked toward Lance then shot from the three-point line while Shiro was following his previous movement. The basketball hit the backboard and bounced into the net, earning them three points. 

Since they only competed in Tier 1, they used regulation points rather than the typical streetball system of 1’s and 2’s, one point for any basket inside the arc and two for outside. 

Tier 1 was more serious than the other two tiers in every sense of the word. More refs, longer playtime, and additional rules. There were nowhere near as many rules as there were in college basketball, but there were some. More than usual.

As Keith looked over to Lance, he was met with the brunette’s confusion. Keith just quickly looked away as they set up again. For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to look at Lance. So he just passed to Matt and watched him score as he spun around Hunk and went in for a layup.

But it was impossible to keep his eyes off Lance forever. He was a part of his team, after all. So when he did get a look at that little hopeful face of his, Keith felt sick to his stomach. The butterflies were nauseating. Lance was open again, and Keith’s feelings were a mess, so he attempted to score himself.

_ Fuck _ .

He missed. 

It was Shiro’s ball now as Keith’s fuckup went out of bounds.

Keith told himself not to look at Lance, but he couldn’t help sneaking a glance. 

Lance was definitely confused, but mostly upset.

“That was fucked, dude. I was open. Several times.” Lance walked up to him, spreading his arms in disbelief. “Are you trying to spite me or something?”

“Not really. I just doubted you’d get it in.” Keith shrugged, knowing it was a lie.

“Oh, that’s it. I’m declaring you my rival right here, right now! I’m going to beat you, and then you’ll apologize. You’ll even be like ‘Oh, Lance. I’m so sorry and you’re really awesome.’ And I’ll agree, because obviously I  _ am _ , but you’re too much of a stuck up asshole to realize it. Fuck you, guapo.” Lance spat.

Keith had no idea what he was talking about, but a part of him was buzzing from the bite in Lance’s tone. He’d have to look up what  _ guapo  _ meant because it was the second time Lance had called him that. He vaguely remembered Lance calling him something similar when they were younger.

He was about to respond when Shiro grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him aside. Far enough away for them to talk.

“Keith, what the fuck was that?” Shiro arched an eyebrow. “How are we going to work as a team if our point guard is playing favorites? Do you have something against Lance?”

Keith looked away pointedly, folding his arms across his chest defensively. “No. I just… I just can’t be on the same team with him, Shiro.” He felt a pang in his heart. “I  _ can’t _ .”

Some things were a worse fate than not finding good enough players to compete in the competition. If he spent all his time training with Lance, playing basketball with Lance, staring at Lance… he wouldn't be able to focus. Being around Lance was dangerous. Especially since he still harbored the remnants of his crush on him from years ago. 

“Can you just give it some time? Just think about it,  _ please _ . They’re the best we’ve seen so far. I thought you would’ve been pleased.” Shiro frowned, and Keith looked down guiltily.

“Fine.” He breathed, relaxing his arms.

“Do you want to call it a day?” Shiro asked.

Keith shook his head, realizing his selfish stupidity. “No, I-I’ll do better. I was just… being an asshole.”

And he was.

He had plenty of reasons to excuse his behavior to himself, but Keith was old enough to realize when he was really just fucking up. No matter what his dumb body felt, that didn’t make how he acted acceptable. He just needed to get over himself.

“Now go apologize to him.” Keith was about to complain, but Shiro gave him a stern look. “Do it.”

Keith sighed heavily but trudged back over to Lance to do as he was told. “Sorry, dude.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, fuck you.” Lance crossed his arms. “Start utilizing me, so you can see just how good I am. As my rival, I’m prepared to prove how much better I am than you, so you have to give me the chance to show you and-”

“Okay, okay. I get it…  _ rival _ .” Keith held back his smile at Lance’s pleased face

He could probably deal with them being rivals. Even if they ended up on the same team. A little friendly competition would help keep Keith on his toes. It’d help them both do better. And it allowed for banter. Keith enjoyed fighting with Lance because it helped distract him.

Distractions were good.

Lance cleared his throat, throwing on a passive face. “Well then. Now that that’s sorted out. Are you ready to fuck these losers up?” 

He gave Lance a smirk. “Hell yeah.”

Shiro put his phone away as he walked up. “Hey guys, it looks like Allura’s not gonna make it today, but to make up for it, she’s inviting the Tron Lions to meet us at her place this Saturday. Are you guys available?” Shiro looked to Lance’s team.

Hunk seemed to nod as eagerly as Pidge, but Lance took a moment to pick up his phone to check it. A couple moments later he nodded as well. “Yeah, I’m free.”

“Great.” Shiro smiled. “I’ll send you guys the address and time later. How about a few more games before we go?”

They were in unanimous agreement.

As tense as Keith made it between him and Lance before, they were all actually enjoying playing together. It was a good amount of challenge mixed with actual fun. Keith couldn’t determine how good they’d be together in just a few games, so he’d leave his decision until later. For now, he tried to enjoy it. While getting over himself and actually playing  _ with _ Lance this time around… 

After some intense games, Keith started seeing the full depth of how well their two teams worked together. It wasn’t something that could be faked. It was a feeling. They just all seemed to be on a similar wavelength. Something Keith hadn’t experienced with the previous people they “interviewed.” 

He understood each player’s vital role. What Pidge didn’t have in height and muscle they made up for in the quickness of their feet and thinking. Hunk was even more than the muscle he presented. He was good at defending while also being great at driving the ball home. 

And Lance.

When Keith actually started passing to him, he saw the way he lit up. He was eager and attentive and passionate. His ball handling skills were showy but effective. Whenever Keith gave him a chance, he didn’t disappoint. He seemed analytical and observant. And out of the many shots he took in their games, he barely missed any. Keith was a bit impressed.

He had improved over the years.

Lance won them their last game by sinking a three-pointer. It was a good way to end their day together. Keith even fist bumped him after, trying not to show how much the skin contact made him dizzy with delight. Lance had cutely acted like the act of fist bumping his “rival” was dumb, but he could see the twinkle in his eyes at Keith’s approval.

Some things really hadn’t changed.

He still remembered how Lance used to dance around him, waiting for a compliment. And Keith was often weak, so Lance usually got what he wanted. He was so cute back then.

Keith didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky to have met Lance on three separate occasions in his life.

Well, he supposed the first time made sense. Kids of the same age in the same part of town usually went to the same school. But not all became friends like Lance and Keith had. There was something wonderfully innocent about their freshman friendship. It was so pure, so genuine. It had been a fundamental turning point in Keith’s life.

That was until Keith got adopted and his parents transferred him to a private school on the other side of the city. Leaving his first friend behind. And it would’ve messed him up entirely if it hadn’t been for Shiro. His brother helped make the shift less painful.

It was the second and third time that had Keith wondering if fate was involved. It felt irrational to think about, but meeting Lance that second time had been so surreal. Seeing his friend after four years, as an opponent at the Streetball Championships no less, felt like destiny. He watched as Lance’s team lost their match, placing them fifth overall, and ending their spot in the competition before Keith was able to go against him.

He remembered getting a chance to talk to Lance a day before his team lost. But before Keith could even express how excited he’d been to find him after so long, Lance had started flirting with him. It caused Keith to feel all kinds of flustered, and in the end, he had just challenged him to a 1v1 game in an empty practice court.

Lance had accepted, and Keith had won. It was satisfying, especially since he felt a little bitter about Lance treating him like some stranger. It hurt that he didn’t remember him. And then Lance had run off before Keith could even remind him who he was.

And then there was this time, and Lance  _ still  _ didn’t remember him.

So maybe it wasn’t fate. Because if it were, it was too cruel. There Keith was, actively and consistently pining after his first friend only to have the guy not remember him once. It was sad. Too disappointing to pin on some supernatural power.

That was just fucking life.

Keith had been so lost in his memories that he didn’t notice he was walking alone with Shiro. He was pretty sure he had said goodbye to everyone. If not, it just further solidified his bad boy act. The asshole he always tried to be. Shiro would argue that Keith was really just a sensitive guy with a lot of love to give. 

Keith definitely didn’t want that to be his brand.

Not when it was so sincerely true.

Shiro was about to break right, toward his house, when Keith spoke up. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Shiro looked at him softly.

“For not trying like I said I would.”

"To be honest, I thought you did a lot better than you usually were. But maybe that was just because you didn’t have much to complain about.” He smiled.

Keith shrugged. “They’re alright. I still haven’t made a decision yet.”

Shiro gripped his shoulder. “ _ Wow _ , look at you being hopeful.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “What about that was hopeful?”

“Your face.” Shiro squeezed Keith’s shoulder then released him. “And also the fact that you didn’t immediately dismiss them.”

“Whatever.” Keith huffed, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. 

Maybe he was a little hopeful. Despite the rocky start, he actually didn’t mind Lance’s team. They were good. He could see himself playing with them again, but he still wasn’t sure how they’d do in the competition. He needed more time on that front.

And to pack away his feelings.

“See you later, bro.” Shiro waved as he started walking away.

Keith gave a wave back, watching him go before starting on his own way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith never did remember to look up what guapo meant haha
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! It means a lot <3


	3. a deal and a distraction - lance's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love writing family scenes \^o^/ 
> 
> but there is talk about Lance's father, who left, this chapter and Yurak/Keith's lack of parental figures since he was an orphan

“And you were saying you didn’t belong in Tier 1, dude! We just killed it with a _Tier 1 team_. Well, Hunk and I lost that last game, but we gave you guys a run for your money. And if that doesn’t tell you how good we are, I don’t know what will.” Pidge chuckled.

Lance could almost laugh himself.

He walked out of Riverside feeling a hell of a lot different than he did walking in. After Pidge explained the reason for their “meeting,” Lance almost left. He didn’t want anything to do with a Tier 1 team, let alone try out for a spot on one. But somehow, when he started playing with Keith, he forgot to care. Keith’s challenge made it hard to remember why he was there in the first place. All he felt was the fire igniting his insides, charging him with a satisfying determination.

It was impossible to focus on anything other than how that Keith guy was so good at pressing Lance’s buttons—he hadn’t decided whether it was in a good or bad way yet. He didn’t know what it was about Keith that made Lance so ready to prove himself. He hadn’t even wanted to be on some random Tier 1 team trying for the Champs. But there he was, walking away from the “meeting” with a feeling of accomplishment at how well it went.

He was supposed to feel anxious about Tier 1, but all Lance could feel was a sense of comfort draping over him. He held his own against an obviously talented team, and every time he thought about that Keith guy… well, he couldn’t think about much else. Even the stupid anxieties his brain usually prodded him with were practically nonexistent. He was _that_ distracting.

Lance figured Keith’s beginning rush of competitive banter was the thing that really helped. It eased Lance, quieting the useless worries of his brain so he could solely focus on Keith. So he could beat him. And the good thing about being his rival was that it was personal. He didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone else. He enjoyed the pressure that came from it, which just made him work harder. It made him excited.

It distracted him from his worries.

“Yeah, we did great!” Hunk beamed. “And Lance, you looked like you were having a blast once you started actually playing! I know you were cautious at first, ‘cause our last time in Tier 1 wasn’t the best, but we were _good_. We _are_ good. And I have a feeling they liked us.”

“Hell yeah! How could they not?” Pidge grinned. “Oh, uh, see you guys Saturday! I’m gonna go catch a ride with Matt. Byyeee!”

Hunk and Lance stood at the edge of the park, waving to Pidge as they took off.

Lance sighed. “Pidge sure is excited.”

“I am too! We can do this, buddy!” Hunk squeezed him into a side hug as they walked.

Lance nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe we can… I had fun. It felt good.” He admitted.

“Really?” Hunk lit up. “So you’ll consider it?!”

Lance shrugged. “I-I don’t think I’ll actually do it, not with the whole money thing being a factor, but I can still dream, I suppose.”

“Hey, we’ll figure something out. Just think about it.” Hunk smiled down at him as he let go. “Hey, I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay? Get home safe!”

“You too.” Lance split off from Hunk and quickly started toward his own house.

His mom was probably worried.

They had played for a surprising amount of time. No one even realized until the sun started setting. The one that was now blocked from Lance’s sight, far below the tall buildings. Though, he was still able to see the reds and purples swirling in the sky above it.

_Damn_ , having roof access to a tall building at a time like this would be a dream.

But Lance wasn’t lucky to have such a thing, so he continued walking home as the winds chilled his bare arms, and twinkling stars winked at him. Night started to blanket the atmosphere and overtake the last bit of daytime. It was always quick to follow the sunset, determined to get its turn in the sky.

It only made Lance’s legs move faster, making his journey home short. He arrived a little later, sneakers squeaking on the lobby tiles as he checked the mail. A few bills, some trash, and a small envelope that had his name scribbled on it. Lance checked for the sender’s name as he headed up the stairs, but didn’t find one. Weird.

His heart dropped as a thought raced through his head.

_Papá?_

No, no. It couldn’t be his dad. He never sent a letter before. Why would he now? Why would Lance even care if he had?

He didn’t… 

Lance shoved it into his pocket as he entered the apartment.

His mom was there to instantly inspect him for more injuries. “Lance! Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

Lance gave a half-hearted chuckle, his mind still stuck on the letter. “Y-yeah. I’m fine. Everything’s okay, Mamá.” He smiled at her warmly, kissing the top of her head before gently moving past her. He sat the rest of the mail on the counter, then quietly retreated to his bedroom.

He could feel his mom’s eyes on his back as he walked away, but she didn’t say anything—just gave him his space. He was thankful for that. And that his niece and nephew hadn’t noticed him. Lance loved the kids, but he really needed some alone time.

Once his door was shut, he took the letter out of his pocket and sat it on his desk. He stared at it, reasoning it could be from anyone and the sender’s name could even be inside. The absence of a name on the envelope didn’t necessarily mean it was something ominous or worrisome. Maybe the sender was just forgetful. But Lance felt anxiety building up in his chest.

After almost ten minutes of scrutinizing the envelope, Lance took a deep breath. He pushed himself back, falling onto his bed to stare at his ceiling. And just as he was about to let go of a sigh, little plastic stars glowing dully in the dark caught his attention. A small smile curled onto Lance’s face despite the situation.

He quickly turned onto his stomach to reach under the bed, pulling out a dusty, blue shoebox. There was a label on it, written in black sharpie and terrible handwriting. It read _Lance’s Property: DO NOT OPEN. I’m lookin at you Rach!_

Lance opened it with care.

Inside were a bunch of little knick-knacks that Lance had collected since he was little. Things that meant a lot to him. That some would consider weird to save. But every item held a special memory for Lance. Held a special place in his heart.

He knew exactly what he was looking for when he opened the cardboard container. It was one of the first things he saw since it laid on top of everything else. And one of the last things Lance had ever put into the box.

He took the polaroid out, letting go of his secret shoebox as he stared at the two kids in the picture. One tan, lanky kid had his arm over the shoulders of a shorter, more serious-looking child. A kid with a buzzed head and intense indigo eyes. Yurak always looked so unapproachable, but Lance knew from experience that it just took a bit to get to know his expressions.

He could tell Yurak was happy in the picture. His eyes were incredibly soft.

Lance really almost forgot how his friend looked. It’d been over six years since he’d seen him last. They had only been friends for a year, but as two kids who spent nearly every day together, it felt like an eternity.

They’d gotten close in their time together. Sure, there was the initial resistance to open themselves up to each other—vulnerability was hard—but they ended up bonding over their lack of father figures. Well, as an orphan, Yurak didn’t have _any_ parents. So Lance felt lucky since he still had his mom. It was only his dad that left.

After some deep talks about family, they were pretty much inseparable. They often confided in each other, feeling like they had no one else to go to. Having that special someone to talk to was crucial for them both because Yurak didn’t have any other friends, even at the orphanage. And Lance didn’t want to stress his mom out with his feelings. Or his siblings, because they had taken it hard as well. Yurak was the only person Lance could talk to.

He was also the person who taught him streetball.

Lance had always been interested in basketball, but never really took the initiative to go out and play with strangers. Especially since they were all usually older and so skilled. It was a bit intimidating. So it wasn’t until Yurak gave him pointers, making Lance feel more confident in himself, did he start getting the nerve to join games.

They supported each other.

Lance rolled onto his back to look at his plastic stars again. The ones that held such a sad memory, but entirely happy moment. Yurak had given them to Lance as an early birthday present. Early because he was moving away and they probably wouldn’t see each other again. Which Lance now knew had been the correct assumption.

Lance really missed him.

He wondered where he was. What he was doing. If he was okay… 

He fell asleep thinking about his old friend, forgetting about the letter on his desk.

Lance woke to his obnoxious alarm yelling at him. He quickly fumbled with his phone, turning off the alert and taking a deep breath before rubbing his sleepy eyes. When he opened them, he saw the faint glow of his little stars, and a small smile climbed onto his face.

Lance got out of bed, feeling light.

He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that he _shouldn’t_ be. That there was something he should’ve been feeling down about, but he couldn’t linger on the thought. He was in a good mood, and even sang in the shower like he always did.

After changing into his work clothes and using some really great coverup on his facial bruises, he walked out into the kitchen with a bounce in his step. He saw his family gathered around the large table in the small dining room and quickly made his way over to take a seat.

“Good morning, my wonderful family!” Lance smiled brightly at them.

“Tío Lance!” His brother’s kids ran over to give him a hug.

Nadia gave him a pout after she pulled away. “You weren’t here for dinner last night.”

“Were you with a girl?” Sylvio asked innocently, big eyes blinking at him.

Lance just laughed. “No. No, I was just with some friends.”

Rachel hummed playfully from the other side of the table as the kids sat back in their seats.

Lance raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just sounds like you’re downplaying it.” His sister smirked at him. “From what I hear, you got home _preeetty_ late.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “It was _not_ that late. You probably got home after me.”

“I did. But that’s because I actually have a boyfriend.” She shrugged. “Just saying, it sounds like you’re about to get one.”

Lance immediately started turning red as his mind definitely didn’t flash to an image of that Keith guy in all his muscley glory.

“Or _girlfriend_.” Veronica added. “You can’t forget he’s bi just because you love a good gay story.” She winked at her sister.

“Ronnie? Really?” Lance nearly squeaked. “You’re supposed to help me out here.”

“I thought I was.” Veronica looked at him with an innocent face. “But Rachel has a point, Lance.”

“I agree.” Marco teased.

Lance’s only good sibling, Luis, just shook his head with a small smile.

“How so?! I stay out late _one_ time-”

“Let’s just enjoy our family breakfast, eh?” His mom interrupted him with a look on her face that gave no room for debate.

Lance sighed, letting go of the tension in his chest. Rachel was always good at getting a rise out of him with Marco quick to help her. The banter was typical sibling stuff, so he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it sometimes. He _was_ surprised at his older sister, though. Veronica was usually more level headed. How could they all gang up on him and think he was out “getting” some person?

“And Lance can have relations with who he wants, but that is _his_ business.” His mom added.

“Mamá! I’m not! I wasn’t-”

His mother’s wink made him cut himself off.

Of course, she knew he’d been with friends. Pidge had even called her. His family just loved picking on him, though he could see how his mother’s words were said in a way to get his siblings off his back.

Lance just shoveled his mouth full of scrambled eggs and tostada before he ran out of time and had to leave for work… 

The Garrett bakery was almost a fifteen minute walk away, so he usually left with enough time to spare. He actually enjoyed the walk. It was time to just listen to his music and breathe before his inevitably hectic shift would start.

Work was nothing if not busy.

When he arrived, he barely managed to get inside with how the line of customers wrapped around the bakery and ended right at the door. No doubt excited to try the new beverages the well-known bakery recently added.

He knew Hunk’s dad had mixed feelings about putting coffee on the menu. It brought in a lot of paying customers but at an exponential rate. They could barely keep up with the orders flowing in.

Lance was just confused as to why it had taken them so long to make it a part of their menu.

“Hey, Hunk, seems a bit dead in here. Should we rethink our marketing strategies?” Lance joked as he pulled on his apron and tied the back.

Hunk laughed as he frantically filled out orders. “Like shutting down?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Lance grinned, instantly jumping into the fray to help his friend. 

“Hey, what do you think we have to do Saturday?” Hunk took a moment to lean in conspiratorially as they started filling orders side by side. “Play against them again? Sign a contract? Complete an obstacle course?”

“They _are_ Tier 1 people, so they’ll probably just need our blood.” Lance quipped as he skillfully added foam to a latte. He had a lot of practice from a prior barista job.

Hunk snorted, and they both took a moment to rush around, completing their various tasks as they put their conversation on hold. When they had a minute, it resumed as easily as it had stopped. “How do you feel? Have you been thinking about it?” 

Lance just shrugged noncommittally. “I doubt they’ll even pick me to join. But I suppose if they do… I’ll just have to decline.” He mused, looking down into the light brown swirl of the new drink he was making. “I’ll just tell the truth. That I won’t be able to afford the entrance fee if we somehow made it to the Championships.”

“But do you _want_ to do it?” Hunk nudged Lance with his foot, prompting him to look up.

Lance glanced at him before resuming his task. “I mean, yeah. I’d love another shot, but… what if I disappoint them? Or myself. Or you and Pidge. Or literally anyone who expects me to do well. What if I’m there and I try my best and it’s not enough?”

“Dude. You’re _amazing_. We literally won the 3v3 champs last year because of you. How could you doubt yourself?” Hunk smiled at him warmly, then handed his mom another complete order.

“Yeah, we won _Tier 2_.” Lance absentmindedly ran his fingers along the plastic lid meant for the drink in front of him. “Everything’s harder in Tier 1. The teams are more serious, as are the rules, and the fucking _pressure_ , dude… It’s a lot.” He exhaled, remembering the feeling.

In the moment, it’d been exhilarating. But after they lost and he had to really think about what he did, about the consequences of throwing away all that money—the money that hadn’t even been _his_ … 

“You should believe in yourself.” Hunk tried. “You’re freakin’ amazing, Lance. Your best would _never_ not be enough.”

Lance quirked a smile at him. “Thanks, Hunk.”

They worked around each other with ease and efficiency. It only took three hours for there to finally be a lull, but the time flew by with Hunk—a perk of working with his friend. Continually moving and having something to do helped to keep Lance from even thinking about the time.

They treasured the moment they were finally able to rest, leaning against the counter as they discussed basketball strategy. They were off the court and yet they still thought about it. Especially Lance. It was something that made him feel accomplished. Even if it was just for fun.

The door jingle sounded, and they both looked up, surprised to see a familiar, tall hunk of a man.

“Oh, hey, Shiro! What are you doing here?” Hunk beamed at him.

Shiro smiled brightly, although a little taken back. “Hey, guys! Good to see you again.” He chuckled as he walked over. “I was just checking this place out. I’ve been looking for a good coffee shop on the way to work.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right one!” Hunk walked to the front counter. “I may be a little biased, but we’ve got amazing baked goods, a great selection of beverages, and some wonderful snack options.” He wiggled his fingers over the display case.

Lance pushed off the counter to join them. “Hunk’s parents own the shop, and Hunk here is the mastermind behind half of our food selection.” He explained.

“Impressive!” Shiro chuckled and glanced over the options. “ _Man_ , everything looks so good. I’ll have to come back and try them all at some point, but for today… hm, I’ll take an Americano and one of those things right there.” He pointed to one of Hunk’s creations through the glass.

“Great choice.” Hunk grinned. 

Lance took Shiro’s money as Hunk went to make his drink.

“I had a question.” Lance quirked his head.

“Okay, shoot.” Shiro nodded.

“Why do you need new players?” He blurted. “What happened to the other half of your team? Didn’t you guys compete with a full team last year?”

Shiro cleared his throat as he stood a little stiffer. “Yeah, we did.” He started slowly. “We actually won last year, but uh, it just didn’t work out.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Can you elaborate? Was there a specific problem? Because if you won, that means they were good enough.” Lance thought out loud, then realized he was being rude. “I-I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I was just concerned since we’re being considered to be a part of your team.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” Shiro shook his head. “Uh, the three that left were all friends. We really only had problems with one, but the other two quit when we kicked their ‘leader’ off the team.”

“Kicked off the team?” Lance raised his brows in slight surprise.

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, he was a _complete_ dick. Keith experienced the brunt of it, unfortunately. And he never complains, so we didn’t even find out how much he’d been harassing him until after the Champs.” Shiro looked a little sad, then huffed a laugh. “Actually, I think we only found out because Keith broke his hand.”

Lance’s heart picked up. 

“Oh, damn.” He breathed.

He didn’t know whether he was frightened or turned on. He figured he could be both.

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded. “Keith doesn’t like to talk about it. He’s not exactly proud of what he did, but I’m glad he stood up for himself. Griffin was pretty scummy. I’m just upset we didn’t see it sooner.” He frowned.

“Well, I’m glad you guys don’t have to deal with him anymore.” 

Lance couldn’t imagine someone being mean to that raven haired god. Not only was he intimidating, but he was literally made of muscle. That Griffin guy had to be pretty scary himself, because he just couldn’t see Keith letting someone treat him poorly.

Then again, Keith might’ve actually been a sensitive guy who had a hard time standing up to his oppressors. Just the thought made Lance’s heart clench. He wanted to protect him all of a sudden. Yurak had experienced enough bullies for Lance to loathe just the thought of one.

“Here ya go!” Hunk handed Shiro a to-go bag and coffee.

“Thanks, Hunk. I’ll see you both on Saturday, right?”

Lance nodded as Hunk brightly confirmed. “You sure will!”

As Shiro walked out, Lance crossed his arms and let go of a sigh.

“What’s up?” Hunk gave him a concerned look.

“Just thinking.” Lance’s brow furrowed as he frowned. 

He couldn’t get over the anger clouding his chest. One mention of bullies and there Lance was, back in ninth grade, helping Yurak fight off his harassers. They were so cruel to him. Just because he was different and didn’t grow up with the same opportunities they had.

Lance took a deep breath and headed toward the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He had to methodically breathe in and out for a couple minutes before he was able to calm down. The memory held potent feelings for him. It was hard not to be upset.

He walked back out, only feeling a little better…

When Lance shuffled into his room after the long day at work, his eyes caught a haunting envelope sitting on his desk.

_Oh, shit._

He'd forgotten about that.

Lance felt his heart pick up as he sat at his desk, staring at it.

Did he even want to open it? He had to open it. The sender’s name could be inside, and it could be from anyone. The lack of a sender’s name on the outside didn’t necessarily mean it was from his dad. He could have a secret admirer. Or a stalker. Maybe even a friendly neighborhood serial killer was sending a nice threat. 

Yeah, that sounded preferable.

Lance ran his fingers across his scribbled name. He took a deep breath and picked up the letter, then tossed it in his top drawer.

He wasn’t ready just yet.

Allura’s place turned out to be a fucking _penthouse_. Absolutely beautiful with an expected amount of grandiose. Marble countertops and white cabinets made up the kitchen as large pieces of furniture were scattered around the rest of the place. There was even a piano by one of the _columns_. 

A penthouse looked just how Lance had imagined they’d look. Not that everyone was the same, but-

_Oh my god!_

He could see the whole city from her floor to ceiling windows. Tiny cars and even smaller people traversed the organized chaos of the city streets. He could see the _roofs_ of most buildings. That was how high up Allura’s home was. She even had a large balcony with a pool. 

Needless to say, Lance was a little excited.

But what was someone with that kind of cash doing with some streetball team? Did she sell hard drugs? Because Lance was _not_ trying to aid in that shit.

He turned around to see Pidge giving him a look. He gave them one back, then realized why they had narrowed their eyes at him. He probably looked like someone who’d never been in a penthouse before. But that was exactly who he was.

Until now.

“I’ve heard great things, and I’m excited to discuss our options further.” Lance heard Allura’s lilting accented voice from behind him. “I know Keith may want to train with you guys a bit before there’s a final decision, but I’m pretty optimistic.” 

Lance walked away from the window to sit down in between Pidge and Hunk on the large sectional couch. Allura sat across from them in a white, modern armchair, looking even more beautiful than he imagined.

Lance shifted until he got comfortable on the rich person couch. “So there hasn’t been a final decision?”

It made sense. They had only played together for one afternoon, and Lance would need more time to assess his potential team as well. Though, he wasn’t sure why they even had to meet with Allura if there was no reason to yet.

“Not at the moment, but as soon as we get a unanimous decision from the team, we can begin. And since the competition’s application deadline is right around the corner, we’d like to get all the details out in the open, so we don’t have to have this discussion later.” She passed them each a packet. “Here is all the information you should need. This would also be the time to bring up any concerns you may have or-”

“Yeah,” Lance raised his hand briefly. “I have a couple concerns, actually.”

Pidge gave him a side glance as Allura nodded with attentive eyes.

“So, if we _are_ picked to be a part of your team, how do you guys decide who’s gonna be the alternate?” Lance wasn’t really one to sit on the bench, waiting for his teammates to get tired so he could be subbed in.

Allura sat with insanely good posture as she began to explain. “That’s decided on a game by game basis. If we determine that the opposing team needs a little more muscle to defend against, we can’t bench Hunk here. He’d be an integral part of our defense.” She smiled at Hunk, then looked back at Lance. “We will have practices where we discover all of our options, so we have a good idea of what our team structure will look like against different types of teams. But, for the most part, we'll have Keith, or perhaps even Pidge here, as our so-called ‘point guard’ and build the team around that.”

Hunk raised his hand.

“Yes, Hunk? You don’t have to raise your hand.” She gave him a kind smile.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” He put his hand back in his lap. “Are there jerseys? Like real team jerseys? We just bought some same colored shirts from the corner store when we first started competing.”

“We still have those dirty rags! Use ‘em every year.” Pidge grinned.

“I happen to like our crappy, old t-shirts!” Lance had a weird urge to defend them, but he couldn’t deny that actual jerseys sounded nice. “But, uh, if we do get jerseys, I wouldn’t _hate_ it.”

Allura chuckled. “Yes, we have jerseys with the team name on the front and individualized backs. We will definitely be ordering new ones this year. I love spoiling my team.” She gave a simple shrug that somehow looked affectionate.

“Wait, what was your team name again?” Lance leaned forward. He had always been a part of the Tron Lions, and being anything else felt weird. Unless it was like some _really_ cool, badass name, then Lance could get on board.

“We’re the Volcats.”

Lance had to hold back his laugh. “The Vol _cats_? Yeah, no way we’re gonna be a bunch of pus-”

“Lance.” Pidge warned with a stern glare, cutting his statement off.

“Sorry. I just have a tight bond with our current team name.” He shrugged, trying to explain his distaste to Pidge with his eyes.

Allura looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Hm, if it’s that big of a deal, we can discuss it with the team once they arrive.”

“That sounds great. Thank you.” Pidge smiled, always on damage control.

She picked up a clipboard and seemed to write something down before looking back up to them. “Any other concerns?”

“Uh, yeah.” Lance spoke up again. “So… say we are good enough, and you want us. We’re amazing and everything, so we’ll probably get to the Championships. _Buuuuttt_ , uh, what if one of us doesn’t have the money to put in for the entrance fee?” He asked cautiously.

He wasn’t expecting to even get chosen for the Volcats, but he had to ask. It was one of the things that made him the most nervous about competing. The reason he didn’t do Tier 1 anymore, besides the feelings of being inadequate. But Lance knew he was good. His brain just liked to convince him he wasn’t sometimes, and make him worry about stupid stuff. If he could just get over that then-

“Hm.” Allura looked a little confused, then realization crossed her features. “Oh, that’s right. You lot do the Championships on your own. I’m terribly sorry. I forgot.” She gave them a warm look. “You provide the skill, and our benefactor will pay for everything. The application fee, preliminary entrance fee, and most certainly the Champs cup fee. So that’s not something you need to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lance nearly choked on his own spit.

“Uh, money isn’t something you have to worry about. I already have a backer lined up.” She explained again.

Lance took a deep breath and let it out as he leaned against the couch cushions. 

_Wow_.

It seemed like a dream. Almost completely unbelievable. Was he even awake? He was probably still in bed sleeping, right?

Pidge pinched him. “No, you’re not dreaming, dummy.” They smirked at him.

“I said that out loud?” Lance looked at them with wide eyes, still in disbelief that they didn’t have to pay _thousands_ in entrance fees. That they could just play for fun! For the competition of it, and the satisfaction of winning. He could experience the love-hate relationship he had with the adrenaline pumping _pressure_ that made him sick with pleasure.

Hunk was just as surprised as he grinned at Lance. “Hell yeah, buddy! Let’s prove how good we really are, and you bet your ass we’re going to the Champs!”

Lance jumped up with excitement, hugging Hunk and laughing the whole time.

Once they sat back down, Lance realized Allura was still watching them. He released a small breath and gave a casual smile. “Uh, wow. Okay. This is-that’s pretty cool. I, uh, yeah.” He could’ve giggled with how the tingles ran around inside him. “No further questions.”

“Wonderful.” She stood with her clipboard. “Should I give you a few moments to go over your packets, or shall we go to the courts and warm up while we’re waiting on the boys?”

“I can look through the packet at the courts.” Pidge offered as Lance nearly ran them over with his sentence, “You have courts? _Here_? In the building?” Lance asked with wide eyes.

She nodded with a smile as she stood. “Yes. It’s big enough to accommodate our whole team.” She made her way across the room, and they all quickly followed her as she explained further. “Once you’re accepted onto the team, you’ll be allowed to utilize it whenever. If you’re so inclined. I’m not sure how far away each of you live.”

Allura’s place was about an eighteen minute walk from Lance’s, but the concept of practicing in an indoor court had him excited. He could see himself doing his warm up jog to her building, then playing for hours without having to worry about the day’s weather, or if it had just rained, or if there were enough open hoops at Atlas.

Yeah, that was an intoxicating idea.

They were led down a hall, into an elevator, went a few floors down, then walked through another hall, and came to a high security looking door. It appeared to be intensely reinforced, like a really picky YMCA, with a keycard scanner and everything.

Allura pulled out a card and tapped it to the door. The machine’s little red dot lit up green, and she pushed the door open to reveal another corridor. “It’s right through here.” She looked back at them to make sure they were following. After about fifteen feet, Allura stopped walking and motioned to the doors on either side of the hallway right before it opened up. “These two doors on the left are the locker rooms. They include showers and bathrooms for your convenience. And to our right, we have the weight room through this door, and the second door is the equipment storage. It should have everything you need from extra basketballs to cones for obstacle dribbling. There’s even other sports equipment, like a soccer ball or two, if you’re interested.” She explained, then finally moved out into the opening.

A gorgeous, regulation-sized indoor basketball court laid before them.

“And here we have our very own indoor court.” Allura announced as they took it in. “It’s my family’s, but no one ever uses it, so it’s practically the team’s.”

Brilliant maple hardwood glimmered in the light coming from the large windows that sat high on the back wall. Lance noticed lights in the rafters that he had no doubt would be more than enough to illuminate the large indoor court even without the windows.

The vaulted ceilings opened the space even more. Though the court didn’t need it. It felt huge with the extra space for a coaching station, fully equipped with benches and a whiteboard.

Lance couldn’t remember the last time he saw a basketball court with fresh lines. Every outdoor court was so used and weathered that the lines were extremely faded—if existent at all. Then there was the pristine quality of the ceiling-mounted basketball hoops in front of Lance’s eyes. The hoops he regularly used couldn’t even compare.

“Holy shit.” Lance couldn’t stop the words from escaping his mouth.

Pidge walked up next to him, just staring at the court as well. “Holy shit, indeed.”

“We need to get on this team.” Hunk added from Lance’s other side. 

Lance swallowed. 

He really hadn’t come to try and get on a Tier 1 team, but everything that happened so far was convincing him more and more. He could deal with a little bit of pressure if it meant he could compete again with no risk, considering money. He could potentially _make_ money. For his mom. For his family.

Pidge sat their informational packet down on the far side, where the coaching benches were, and picked up a basketball off the rack. 

“What happened to reading the packet when we got here?” Lance teased as he walked over to grab a ball as well.

“Ha, ha. Fuck you.” Pidge spat, but a smile curled up on their face. “This place is too cool. So freakin’ nice.”

“Holy moly, guys. Imagine training here.” Hunk joined them, almost squealing from the excitement.

The enthusiasm between them was obvious as they all played around the court. Their faces were bright with wide smiles and pleased features. They warmed up how they always did—layups, dribbling exercises, free throws, etc.—but it felt extremely different from how it usually went. The new environment pumped their veins with determination. 

They _wanted_ this. 

They were going to prove themselves.

As much as Lance liked playing solely for the fun of it, because it took the pressure off, he knew he’d thrive in a competitive setting. He had always loved it. The rush, the cheering crowd, and yeah, even the pressure he loved to hate, was enjoyable. The money issue had really been his most influential setback. And now that it wasn’t an issue anymore, Lance was free to actually let himself decide what he _wanted_ to do.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you guys.” Allura spoke up from the bench, where she had been observing them. “There’s a fridge stocked full of hydrating drinks for when you get thirsty. Perfect for long training days.” She smiled.

Lance hollered with approval as he ran toward the hoop. He pushed up, jumping high into the air to tip his ball into the basket. The Volcats were starting to sound better and better. All he needed was a distraction from his stupid anxieties.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear—or whatever that saying was—because in walked that Keith guy. The one who made Lance feel all tingly with a buzzing heat. The one who made Lance excited to show off. The one Lance declared his rival.

His _distraction_.

And he was a fantastic one, because _damn_. Did that guy sway his hips like that on purpose? His toned muscles were on display with his sleeveless shirt—a sexy black cutout that showed off a thrilling amount of skin. The sides dipped so low Lance could see Keith’s slender waist peeking through.

_Jeez_ , Lance wasn’t trying to get that distracted.

He tried to ignore his attraction to focus on their rivalry as he dribbled back to the three-point line and very ostentatiously shot his basketball. His muscles flexed with practiced use as his loose tank top lifted with the jump. An intense satisfaction ran through Lance when his ball _swished_ through the net. He glanced over his shoulder at the raven haired beauty before jogging over to grab his ball. A smirk climbed onto his face as he caught Keith’s eyes on him, though, they quickly darted away and back to anywhere but Lance.

He sauntered over to the Volcats, an obvious pep in his step as he dribbled fancifully the whole way over. Pidge and Hunk finally noticed them walking in and jogged over as well.

“Hey, guys!” Shiro smiled. “What’s the verdict on the court?”

“It’s fucking amazing.” Lance blurted.

Shiro and Matt laughed.

But Lance couldn’t help his eyes from gravitating toward Keith, looking for his reaction. Which was, predictably, unsatisfying. His gaze was locked to the opposite side of the court, distinctly away from anywhere Lance was standing. _Fuck_. That really riled up the heat in Lance’s gut. He had an overwhelming urge to get his attention. To get his beautiful indigo eyes to look at _him_.

“Well, I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled at him, then looked at his sister. “Did you have a chance to read over the welcome packet.”

“It’s surprising, but no, not yet. The court beckoned and I answered her call.” Pidge shrugged. “What can I say, brother? I’m a lover at heart.”

Matt shook his head, smiling. “Well, I suggest you look it over soon because we’re going to make our decision at the end of today. After we spend some more time playing with you guys, that is.”

“Today?” Hunk raised his brows. “That’s kind of soon. Do you think you’ll really be able to come up with an answer that fast?”

“We’re cutting the application deadline pretty close.” Keith answered, keeping his eyes on everyone but Lance—much to Lance’s displeasure. “And there seems to be a lot of faith put in you guys already. Although not all of us are completely on board just yet.”

“He would be talking about himself.” Matt gave a lopsided grin, hooking his arm over Keith’s shoulders. “But he’s a reasonable guy, so I think we can come to an agreement.” 

Shiro gave a nod. “Yeah, we just wanted another chance to play you guys to further solidify our feelings. And watch you compete in a more official setting.”

“And there may be a little hazing thrown in.” Matt shot them a trademark Holt grin. “Who knows where the day will take us?”

Pidge cackled deviously, sending a chill down Lance’s spine. They were oddly frightening like that. “You can try, sweet brother. But we thrive under pressure.”

Lance felt a wave of sweet nausea roll through him, but he just looked to Keith and it turned to fire—a driving force. 

God, he really liked being around that guy. 

It was incredibly convenient.

“Also, if you guys decide to take us on, we’re gonna need to change the team name.” Pidge said flatly.

_Hell yeah, Pidge._

Lance was enthused at their unapologetic deviance. Pidge wasn’t usually one to create tension where they didn’t think it was necessary. Apparently they hated the name just as much as Lance. He showed his approval of the statement with a small, lop-sided smile.

Keith looked very much the opposite of that.

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” The gorgeous guy practically gagged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3
> 
> And sorry if you like Griffin :c I just wanted to have a vld character instead of making up an OC for the previous teammates of the Volcats


	4. wants, needs, and a burning heat - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely losing steam with this but I'm still trying! I've been writing chapter ten for about two weeks now and by "write" I mean I've been staring at the pages then walking away to draw lol I will finish this no matter what though! <3

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Keith nearly choked.

He woke up early on his day off, wearing his most attractive workout clothes—not that that mattered or had anything to do with seeing Lance again—just to come hear some punk say they wanna change _his team’s_ name?

“Uh, that’s certainly an unusual request.” Shiro gave an awkward laugh. “Is there something wrong with our current name?”

Pidge jammed a thumb Lance’s way. “Lance said it was dumb and he hated it.”

Keith glanced over to see Lance’s eye bulge out as he stammered. “W-w-w-w-wait a second! All I said was that it sounds like we’re a bunch of pus-”

“Lance.” Pidge warned. “Stop trying to use that word. It’s gross.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick about it or anything. I’m just really attached to our name now, and I’d like a team name I'd be proud to represent. I-if we were to get chosen, that is.”

“What about a compromise?” Allura suggested, joining the group. 

“In what way?” Matt released Keith from his hold to stand properly. 

“Well, I’ve had a little time to think about it since they mentioned it earlier.” She looked at them pointedly, like she hadn’t expected for the conversation to come up so quick, but was still open to helping. “What if we combined the names?”

“Tronvol?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Or Lioncats? Because either way, I’m not a fan.” He jutted his hip out, standing in that alluring way that had Keith looking away again. He could _not_ stare at his old friend for very long. Lance, somehow, became more beautiful every time Keith saw him. “N-not that I-fuck. I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole-”

“You do.” Pidge nodded, then turned to address Allura. “Sorry, Lance is very opinionated and outspoken, but that’s part of his charm. Trust me. He gets ‘all the ladies.’” Their voice dripped with sarcasm as they rolled their eyes.

But all Keith felt was a rolling in his gut.

A sick, twisting reminder that, duh, Lance was probably straight. Not that Keith ever thought something was going to happen between them. Attraction just tended to make people delusional. Because maybe the thought of caressing Lance’s face and bringing him into a kiss had crossed Keith’s mind once or twice since freshman year.

“It’s quite alright.” Allura gave Pidge a nod. “But, uh, no. Neither of those names were what I was thinking.” She held her head high as she voiced her idea. “I quite like the name _Voltron_.”

Keith watched his team mull over the name quickly, looking surprisingly pleased. And Keith couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same. Voltron sounded like a pretty good name. But why were his team and manager already agreeing to some condition from a team they hadn’t even decided to recruit yet?

If he was going to change the name for them,—even though it really was up to Allura— they were going to have to fucking prove themselves. Lance had to _really_ show him how much he wanted this.

“I love that, Allura.” Shiro voiced and Matt nodded. “What do you think, Lance?”

Keith looked over to see Lance sporting an adorably satisfied face. “I think it sounds fucking sweet. Nice job, Allura!” He smiled at her.

_Fuck_.

“Okay.” Keith let the word slip off his tongue before he could think, bringing everyone’s eyes to him. “I’ll agree to the name change, _if_ you guys can prove yourselves today.” He looked between Hunk and Pidge. “I’m not talking about fun 3v3s. I’m talking about _my_ standard training day. If you can survive it, and beat me in a one on one, consider yourselves welcomed to Team Voltron.” He declared, meeting Lance’s gaze.

He could see Shiro’s pleased surprise from the corner of his eye, but Keith was focused on Lance’s ocean eyes. The initial jolt of astonishment in the deep blue made way for a determined curiosity.

An attractive lopsided grin curled onto Lance’s face. “You’re on.”

Keith felt a heat running through his veins. “Great. Let’s start with comprehensive stretching.”

“There’s a great space in the weight room.” Allura suggested. “We should have enough mats for everyone in there.”

Shiro smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

“I don’t know.” Matt sighed dramatically. “Keith’s routine is _pretty_ intense.” 

Keith nearly smiled at Pidge and Hunk’s expressions. Their faces dropped, concern painting across their features. It wasn’t _that_ hard. Matt was obviously just trying to exaggerate when he knew it wasn’t that terrible. He should know since he survived it several times. Sure, he cursed at Keith for putting him through it, but a week later—when he wasn’t sore anymore—Matt thanked him for the thorough workout.

If Keith could do it, then any one of his teammates should be able to do it.

“W-what if we pass out?” Hunk asked, nervously messing with his hands.

“Uh,” Keith raised an eyebrow. “I think you guys will be just fine. If Matt and Shiro can handle it, you guys can too.” He tried an encouraging smile.

It seemed to work a little because Pidge stood a little taller, and Hunk didn’t look like he was going to vomit anymore. “Yeah,” Pidge spoke up. “If _my brother_ can do it, we got this. No problem.”

Hunk nodded and looked to Lance, who had apparently just been staring at Keith with a heated gaze, not even attempting to hide it as Keith looked over at him. He looked excited. Ready. 

He looked how Keith felt.

“Okay, guys. You have fun with that.” Allura checked off a few things on her clipboard and looked up. “I have a meeting I need to prepare for, but I should be done with it by this afternoon. I’ll be home, so just stop on by with your guys’ decision, okay?” She looked at Keith, and he nodded. “Have fun!” She called as she walked away.

“Ready then?” Keith turned back to look at the group.

Hunk did an arm stretch as Pidge pumped their fist and yelled, “Let’s do this!”

“Alright. Good to see there’s no lack of enthusiasm here!” Shiro smiled at them brightly, then walked up to Keith to sling his arm over his shoulders. “We’re all yours, leader.” He let go of him to pat his back. “Show us what you got.”

Keith gave Lance one last glance before leading the group into the weight room. It was a pretty decent sized gym for being privately owned. Though, that was expected of Allura’s family. They were filthy rich. 

But even with all of Keith's money issues, he didn’t envy her. Losing a parent couldn’t have been easy.

Keith maneuvered through the different exercise machines with ease, noticeably familiar with the layout. He’d been using Allura’s gym since the new round of Volcats came together, almost four years ago. And even though he preferred playing streetball where it belonged—outside—he still utilized the weight room as often as he could.

Once the group was led to an empty back corner in front of a wall of mirrors, Keith started handing out mats. For some reason, Allura had tons of colored mats, and for some reason, Keith handed them out according to what he thought each person would be best suited with. Pidge was given green because that just made sense to him. Green was down to earth. Smart. Hunk, yellow, because he was such a bright and cheery guy. He handed Shiro a purple mat and Matt an orange one because those colors really just fit them.

And Lance.

He handed Lance a blue mat, which didn’t mean anything other than it was Lance’s favorite color. At least from what Keith had learned in ninth grade. But really none of the colors were meaningful. They didn’t hold some deeper connection to anything. Lance just liked blue and Keith liked seeing Lance in blue. It matched his eyes. Nothing weird or symbolic about that.

Keith, of course, took his favorite color—red.

The bright colors made the dull, monotone exercise room look a little livelier. So maybe the purpose of the colored mats was to make it a more enjoyable experience. Though Keith was purposefully trying to push them to their limits. He just wanted to see how much his potential team could take.

Keith took his place in front of everyone, waiting for them to finish placing their mats. “Since we’re not solely stretching for flexibility, just mainly focusing on warming up, we’ll be doing more dynamic stretches.” Keith started. “Concentrating on the control of our range of movement.” He took a deep breath as he saw everyone waiting for his direction, “Alright.” He began, facing his mat, and bent at the hips to go into a downward dog pose.

Though, the hem of his shirt slipped and bunched around his chest, showing off his entire torso. Keith just sighed and stood back up. If he knew he was going to be instructing, he would’ve worn a different outfit. One that allowed him the freedom of showing off his stretches without showing off his abs. He grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off completely, not missing the choking sound coming from someone in the group.

He took another breath and started again. “Okay, so we’ll start with down-facing dog.” He narrated as he did the pose, feeling the chill air on his exposed skin. “Then we’ll be smoothly transitioning into a runner’s lunge, switching to the opposite leg with every downward dog.” He showed them the move, his muscles flexing with practiced use, adjusting himself easily to the new pose.

They caught on quickly.

It made sense. He knew they couldn’t be new to the concepts he was using, especially since they were involved with activities that required proper warmup. Even if they didn’t know the specific names, they understood.

But Keith made sure he knew the terminology. Because if he had anything together in his life, it was his training routine. He knew which stretches would properly warm up the different areas of his body, and what stretches he should focus more on his days off—for the times he was completely targeting flexibility and not training. He knew what his regimen should look like, be composed of, and how to execute his schedule in order to train properly, and for the best results.

He was on top of it.

Just like he was on top of guiding the group through their stretches. They were an easy bunch to teach. They already pretty much knew what poses he was doing. Even if they were in odd combinations. And Keith wouldn’t declare it, but he was a decent teacher. He wasn’t even nervous.

Well… 

Having everyone’s eyes on him was normal. Expected. He knew what he was doing, and yet… somehow he hadn’t anticipated just how hot Lance’s gaze would feel. Especially with the vulnerability of his shirt off. He wasn’t uncomfortable with showing off his body, but Lance was proving to be an extremely attentive student. Keith could feel his eyes raking all over him.

It was interesting.

But it wasn’t the _only_ interesting thing Keith noticed regarding Lance, because during their training regimen, there were a _couple_ other odd things that stood out to him.

Halfway into their stretching, Keith walked around to help everyone keep their forms, correcting stances here and there. But when he went over to Lance, motioning to his upper thigh and explaining he needed to move his foot further to feel the stretch better, Lance practically became mute. Only nodding his head, and not uttering a peep. Which Keith felt was weird for the talkative, outgoing person he had experienced Lance to be.

The next time was when they had moved onto their short weight training session to further warm up their muscles. Lance had been on the lat pulldown bar when Keith meandered over to a nearby machine,—naturally gravitating toward his old friend—and as soon as they locked eyes Lance almost let go of his bar, seeming to instantly get nervous. 

Keith didn’t think he was _that_ intimidating. But then again, he was used to himself. Ninth grade Lance had told him he was kind of hard to approach. 

But maybe it wasn’t just intimidation. Because once they moved onto the court, to ball handling and shooting, Lance had nearly jumped out of his own skin when Keith gently touched his hand. He had just been attempting to adjust Lance’s almost perfect grip, but it seemed to make his old friend flustered.

That one got Keith thinking… Did he make Lance _nervous_ ? Like in a butterflies-in-his-stomach kind of way. Like in an _attraction_ sort of way. It seemed stupidly impossible—ridiculous to consider even—but as much as Keith was a tragic pessimist, he couldn’t help but hope.

It wasn’t really something he should’ve been focused on, but he couldn’t help it. And Lance _did_ flirt with him two years ago. While it had been brief and nearly questionable, Keith still counted it. That little memory proved it wasn’t a completely insane concept to think that Lance thought he was attractive.

Or maybe he _was_ just intimidated… or both. 

Hell if Keith knew.

But it wasn’t really the time to focus on that, because they were done training. Meaning the final test was upon them. Keith nearly smirked as he sunk a fancy shot before walking to the center of the court.

“Good hustle so far.” Keith praised them. “I usually would’ve run a couple miles somewhere in there, but I figured we’ll get our cardio in when we play some games. Including the final requirement. A one on one game with me.” He looked to Lance and his team. “So, which one of you will it be?” He arched an eyebrow.

Pidge and Hunk both looked to Lance as his mouth was already opening to respond. “I think it’s only fair if I do it since we are _rivals_.” Lance smirked, seeming to have gained some newfound confidence.

Keith nodded, a small smile on his own face. “Right, only fair.”

Lance instinctively wiped the bottom of his sneakers with his palms, ridding the dirt and allowing himself better traction on the shiny hardwood. “Alright, let’s do this.”

“Okay. Rules—first to nine points or whoever has the most points when five minutes runs out wins, defensive rebounds or steals must be taken back to the three point line before-”

“I know how 1v1s go.” Lance nearly rolled his eyes.

Keith just gave him a stern look that didn’t have as much bite as he had hoped. Lance always made him soft. “Before shooting,” he continued, “ball goes to the last person who made a shot, points will be 1s and 2s with dunks as a 3, and we’ll determine the starting player with a toss-up into play.”

Lance sighed, bouncing lightly on his feet, seemingly antsy to start. “Alright, Mr. Rules.” 

Keith almost resented that statement.

As much as he hated to be the one to be the stickler, he was the one who came up with the conditions. He had to make sure they were going to do everything correctly. Yeah, he used to be fiery and impatient as well. So ready to just get going with things. He supposed he lost a bit of that when the game became more about the money than the fun of it. Than the passion.

But there Lance was. To remind him of that passion.

“Alright, Mr. Rival.” Keith gave Lance a flitting side glance before pulling his hair back into a ponytail.

“W-w-why are you doing that?” When Keith looked over, Lance seemed a little red. Barely noticeable on his tan skin, but Keith was always more attentive when it came to his old friend.

He just raised his brow. “Putting my hair back? To see better?”

Lance swallowed thickly, and Keith’s eyes followed the movement in Lance’s throat. “I, uh, oh…”

He watched Lance turn away from him, facing anywhere but Keith.

_Weirdo_.

Keith finished putting his hair back and took a couple focused breaths. He wasn’t going to go easy on Lance. It wouldn’t benefit either of them if Keith were to be lenient. Lance would be offended and wouldn’t feel like he actually earned his spot on the team, and Keith would feel like he had ulterior motives. Because if Lance got on the team without earning it… that was basically Keith trying to get more time with his old friend. 

So he’d make Lance earn it.

Keith created the deal knowing full well that whoever went against him wasn’t going to win. He knew Lance wasn’t going to win. But as long as he fought hard and proved himself, that was enough for Keith.

Their team had already proved how eager they were. They survived Keith’s rigorous routine and came out only moderately exhausted, but also invigorated. Those were the kind of teammates he was looking for. Ones that thrived on the hard work that the Volcats used as their foundation. Ones with perseverance.

Keith was ready to see more of Lance’s energy.

“Shiro.” Keith nodded to him, and his brother knew exactly what Keith wanted from him.

They watched Shiro grab a new basketball and place himself between Lance and Keith on the left side of the court, holding the ball up in his palm. “Ready, guys?” Shiro looked between them.

As Keith stood in front of Lance, he tried not to _admire_ how tall he was and rather _examine_ it. Because yeah, Keith was slightly shorter than him. By an _inch_. If that. So he’d have to use his powerful leg muscles to propel himself higher than his tan friend if he wanted to start the game in his favor.

Keith looked to Lance’s focused eyes and felt the heat in the pit of his stomach start bubbling with excitement. He looked back to Shiro and nodded. “Ready.”

“Ready.” Lance echoed.

Shiro gave them both one last look before speaking. “Alright, jump ball in three, two,” Shiro didn’t bother to count “one” out loud, and instead waited for the beat then tossed the basketball up.

Keith waited for the right timing. He’d jump in the split second before the ball was on its way back down. And there it was. He pushed against the hardwood, swinging his arms up as he soared into the air with his vertical jump. His fingertips grazed the basketball in a gratifying touch. He was careful not to make too much forceful contact. Keith wanted to take possession of the ball, not _yeet_ it out of bounds.

He landed on the hardwood a split second before the basketball followed him. Keith didn’t bother looking at Lance to see what he’d been doing. He was only concerned with driving the ball to the net. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance running at him, but Keith was fast. He made the layup before Lance could even attempt to block the shot.

“Point to Keith. Set back up.” Shiro announced as Matt kept the score on a red and blue scoreflipper, putting the point in the red.

Keith caught the escaping ball and looked to Lance, who gave him a fiery gaze back. Keith let go of a breathy exhale as he started dribbling back to the top of the key. He focused on his blood pumping, absorbing him into the high of the game.

He bounced the basketball to Lance as they stood in the proper starting positions, and they started once again as Lance checked the ball back to him. Keith tried to work up toward the basket, but Lance was determined to keep him from it. He was defending with a fervor, similar to the one coursing through Keith.

Keith finally backed off, realizing Lance's defense wasn’t going to be easy to get through. Though as he moved around, Lance was still eager to follow his movements. Keith spun out of his defense to run off to the side, giving himself more room to shoot from the three-point line. The ball bounced up on the rim and fell into the hoop, scoring Keith two more points.

It was a bit sloppy, but Keith took it.

“Three to zero.” Matt announced, flipping more points to the red side of the scorer.

“You got this, Lance!” Keith heard Pidge yell from their place on the bench. “There’s plenty of time!”

Keith couldn’t see the countdown being used on Shiro’s phone, but he imagined they had only been playing for a minute, if that. With four more minutes remaining, a lot could happen… 

As Keith went for a third shot in their game, Lance blocked the ball and effectively stole it. He dribbled it back to the three-point arc as Keith chased after him, but Lance got his shot in before Keith was able to defend.

“Two to three.” Matt reported while Hunk and Pidge shouted from the sidelines.

“Hell yeah!!” Pidge started jumping up and down as Hunk started doing some sort of robot dance move, shouting, “That’s our _booooyy_!”

Keith was definitely confused, but he was happy that Lance had such supportive teammates. He was going to need it after Keith wiped the floor with him. Keith smirked at his own inner dialogue. Lance may have the ball now, but he wasn’t going to have it for long.

Lance checked the ball to Keith with the tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips. Keith took a breath, passing the ball back to the cocky kid in front of him. He somehow managed to keep his own face passive as he took in Lance’s adorably hopeful face.

Keith admired Lance’s drive and did his best to defend him. And it seemed that Keith’s best was a little better than what Lance was putting out. As soon as Lance slipped up with his fancy dribbling, letting the ball come into Keith’s reach for a split second, Keith grabbed the ball.

He felt Lance running after him, but Keith couldn’t look back now. He had to make it to the three-point arc so he could rush it back in and make his shot. But as soon as he got to the arc, Lance was there to defend him. So he was fast too…

Keith should’ve known. 

Lance was always a quick learner. Eager to earn his compliments. He knew that. And in knowing that, it was hard to _not_ award him. “I like a guy that can keep up.” Keith let a playful, lopsided smile appear on his face, hoping the charged statement would distract Lance.

And boy, did it.

“I-uh-yeah, um-I-I’m fast.” Lance spluttered. A beautiful red spread across his cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears as his defensive stance slipped slightly.

Keith actually let himself laugh and miss his opportunity to drive the ball, because _god damn_. Lance was so cute. It’d be cruel of himself to miss the look on his old friend’s face. Though Lance's reaction to Keith’s laugh was also an opportunity. His deep ocean eyes were opened wide with surprise, presenting another chance for Keith to evade his defense.

He took it that time.

Keith gave Lance one last smirk before quickly spinning around him and driving the ball up the opposite side of which he came, using the hoop as protection from a potential powerful jump from Lance to knock it away. 

It worked.

“Red, four. Blue, two.” Matt bellowed from his spot on the sidelines.

Lance narrowed his eyes on Keith as they made their way back to the top of the key. “You did that on purpose.”

Keith raised an “innocent” brow. “I don’t know what you mean.” He threw the ball to Lance.

Lance caught the chest pass effortlessly. “Oh, suuure. You know how ho-” he cut himself off. “You know.” He passed the ball back to Keith, resuming their game.

Keith dribbled along the arc as he pretended to look thoughtful, “I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you not like compliments?” Keith knew the sweet batting of his eyelashes was probably a little over the top, but it sure seemed to catch Lance’s attention well. “Should I not let you know what I think anymore?”

Lance swallowed, still defending well for how engrossed he was in Keith’s eyes. “I think you should just come out and say _exactly_ what you’re thinking.” His blue eyes turned a little dark.

Keith felt something stir in his abdomen. “I don’t think you want to know.” He challenged.

“Stop eye-fucking and _play_!” Keith heard Pidge yell, diverting Lance’s attention.

“We’re RIVALS! We’re eye-THREATENING!” Lance nearly squeaked. “Not- _oh fuck_!”

Keith had raced from Lance’s weakened defense and scored an easy layup as his opponent tried chasing after him. Lance was actually pretty fast in reacting. Had he not placed his focus on correcting Pidge, he wouldn’t have lagged behind.

Keith wondered when they were going to stop scoring on each other due to distractions. They both needed to focus. The game was serious. And while Keith was already getting the feeling he wanted Lance and his friends as his teammates, he still had to make Lance work for it.

No more distractions. Just honest plays. Which seemed a little odd for streetball players. They weren’t exactly “regulation.” Their games would never be too proper to ban well-played distractions. So maybe it was just good practice.

Matt laughed at the whole interaction before announcing the score. “Five to two.” A giggle still in his voice.

“Focus up, guys.” Shiro’s voice rang out. “Two minutes left.”

Two minutes.

Keith was ahead, but that didn’t mean he was going to act cocky.

A lot could happen in two minutes… and a lot did.

Keith scored two more points, then had the ball stolen from him through an impressive move made by Lance. The countdown seemed to invigorate him because Lance was wholly fixated on the game. Keith didn’t even try distracting him anymore, because he told himself he wouldn’t. And after drowning in the adrenaline of the game turning extremely serious, he didn’t want to.

They both played seriously, leaving the trash talk for after the game. Though Keith had a hard time not _complimenting_ Lance during the game either. He couldn’t deny that Lance was giving him a hard time, and that alone was enough for him to want to shower Lance in all the well-deserved praise he could. Just knowing Lance thrived on flattery from people he was close to, or even respected, gave Keith an urge to do it.

There was thirty seconds left on the clock and Lance was one point behind. His only chance to win was getting a shot behind the three-point arc or going for a dunk. Shooting from the ark made the most sense, but Keith could see a certain look in Lance’s eyes. It was a look that Keith felt in his very core. One that professed Lance’s strong desire to drive the ball home and sink it into the net with his own hands.

It was a look Keith saw in Lance since he first helped him with streetball seven and a half years ago.

Keith knew Lance liked feeling his shots. He _liked_ layups and jump shots. He liked jumping to the rim and dunking them in. Though, Keith hadn’t been able to see Lance actually dunk when they were younger since he hadn’t been tall or strong enough yet. But Keith remembered the time during the Championships two years ago when he watched Lance dunk on him. It took his breath away, because that had always been something Lance ached to learn. And to see his old friend grow up and actually be able to do it in their secret little one on one… it made Keith proud.

Keith set up his defense to predict Lance’s charge. He’d make it impossible for Lance to dunk it on him, with one exception. Lance would have to run straight into him. The way Keith planned to defend was going to give Lance two options at the last possible moment: keep driving and dunk, choosing to push Keith down and effectively winning, or shoot from mid-range, which was Lance’s weak spot if he ever showed one, making them tie.

It was a dumb idea, stupid really, because Lance would probably dunk no matter what. But Keith couldn’t help but try it out. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to achieve. Maybe he wanted to see if Lance had gotten more aggressive, or if he would actually be willing to hurt his opponents to win. Maybe Keith just wanted to see if Lance would remember him. Because his plan involved a move that Keith had used on Lance when they were younger.

Keith came back to reality as everyone on the sidelines started counting down. “Five, four…”

With a few seconds to go and Lance rushing in, Keith set his plan into motion. He saw the slight surprise in Lance’s eyes as Keith raced up and stepped directly into his projected trail with the flair younger Keith had created. Lance only had a split second to push into Keith and score anyway, but he _didn’t_.

Lance instead jumped to the side and threw the ball mid-range as he tumbled to the floor from the awkward footfalls he’d taken. The time ran out as the ball had left Lance’s hands. They all watched it bounce against the rim of the hoop and jet back out to halfcourt—missing.

Keith took a couple seconds to breathe, a bit surprised that Lance didn’t just plow him over. He had been so close to winning. Apparently Lance was still the same kind of guy he used to be. Soft-hearted and caring. The kind of guy Keith had developed feelings for all those years ago.

Keith slowly walked over to offer his hand to Lance, who was still on the floor. “Good game.” He meant it. Lance sighed as he sat up and took Keith’s hand, pulling himself up with Keith’s help. He opened his mouth to accept his defeat, but Keith spoke again before he could say anything. “Welcome to Team Voltron.”

“B-but I missed. I lost the game.” Lance’s blue eyes widened in surprise as he searched Keith’s.

Keith just shrugged, a small smile forming on his face. “You almost _tied_ with me. I wasn’t even expecting that. And I knew no one would beat me. I just wanted you to work for it.” Keith examined his old friend’s eyes, looking for any sign of familiarity in them. He had used his old move in order to jog Lance’s memory, but it didn’t appear to have done anything.

Lance just blinked a couple times, then turned to his sad team with a big smile. “W-we’re in. Keith said we’re in!” He met Pidge and Hunk in a running hug.

They all hugged like their lives depended on it as Keith joined Matt and Shiro, noticing their smirks.

“What?” Keith shrugged.

Matt grabbed him, bringing Keith into a tight hug. “You big softie!”

Shiro laughed. “Keith knew they were good. Just in time too. The application deadline is coming up soon.”

Matt nodded with his comedic doe eyes. “Yeah, it’s _such_ good fortune that I’m stuck with my lil sis.” He meant it, but his voice projected the words like it was a joke.

Pidge heard it and swiveled around to glare at their brother. “Yeah, you better be happy there’s actually a talented Holt on this team.” They smirked with playful venom.

Matt released his hold on Keith to take a couple steps closer to his sister. “I’m sorry, what was that? You think I’m better than you? Oh, thanks for stating the obvious.” He gave a dorky lopsided grin.

“Oh, you!” Pidge pushed off the floor, running at an extraordinary speed toward their brother. Matt took the hint and ran as fast as he could away from them.

The rest gravitated together in one cluster as they watched the siblings chase each other around the court, laughing.

“Well, I’m glad to have you guys on our team.” Shiro smiled at Hunk and Lance. “Team Voltron I guess it is now.”

Hunk shook his head with an appreciative look on his face. “I can’t believe you guys agreed to that.”

Shiro just shrugged. “Change is good. The Volcats was the old team name anyway. Before us.” He motioned to the main three Volcats. “Allura’s dad came up with it for his team, but after his passing and with her taking over, she just never thought about changing the name.”

Lance’s arms dropped from Hunk’s shoulders. “Oh my god… I’m the biggest asshole- _holy shit_. I’ve got to apologize-”

Keith shook his head. “She wouldn’t have changed it if she wasn’t ready. I think it was good that she came up with the new name. It was a good step in moving on, making her life more focused on _her_ , and not necessarily all about her dad.”

“Yeah, don’t feel bad, Lance.” Shiro patted his shoulder. “Allura isn’t afraid to speak her mind either. So if she wasn’t comfortable with the idea, then she never would’ve done it. And I agree, Keith. I’m glad she came up with the name. A good one too!” He gave a fatherly smile, trying to make everyone feel at ease. It worked, of course. Shiro was a natural at comforting others.

“Uh, Shiro?” Hunk sounded a little concerned.

“Yeah, Hunk?” He walked over to him.

Hunk pointed to where Pidge had jumped on their brother’s back and had started “playfully” attacking him. Like good siblings. “Should we do something about that?”

“Uh, yeah.” Shiro forced a laugh and started jogging over to the Holt siblings with Hunk.

Keith was about to join them when Lance grabbed his arm. 

A jolt of buzzing electricity shot through him at Lance’s touch. He looked over to face him with his eyebrows raised.

“Uh, how’d you know?” Lance looked at him with a potent desire to figure out the answer to his question.

Keith was a little confused. “Know what?” He turned his body to face Lance fully.

Lance took a breath, releasing his hold on Keith’s arm. “How did you know I was going to try to dunk it? I could’ve easily shot from the arc. Hell, it would’ve been smarter of me. So how did you know I wanted to dunk it?”

Keith answered his question with a question. “Why didn’t you just drive it through me?”

Lance looked down for a second before meeting Keith’s eyes once again. “I-I don’t know.”

“Then that’s my answer too.” Keith walked off before Lance could reply.

It wasn’t like he could just say _I just know you better than you think I do, because_ surprise _I’m actually your best friend from freshman year and I didn’t say anything because you didn’t notice me two years ago either when you hit on me and we ended up having a one on one battle during the champs, and I’m awkward so when it didn’t come out right away there’s no way I could say it now, and yeah maybe I wanted to see if you’d remember me for yourself and_ -

“Hey!” Matt yelled to everyone as Pidge was detached from his back. “How about some 3v3s, guys? We still have the rest of the afternoon!”

How Matt still had the energy to even suggest that was beyond Keith, but he couldn’t deny it sounded like fun.

“You guys go pretty hard, huh?” Hunk laughed.

“Always.” Shiro gave him a bright grin as Keith walked up.

“Have to. It's part of the workout regimen.” Keith chimed in, feeling Lance walk up behind him to join them

Lance stopped at Keith’s side. A little too close, but Keith wasn’t complaining. “Alright, why not?”

“Hell yeah!” Pidge shouted, punching their brother’s arm. “First 3v3 game as a team!”

“And using full court too.” Shiro added.

Lance gasped so loudly it startled Keith slightly since they were so close. “What? Full court? _Why?_ It’s only 3v3s.”

Keith looked over to smirk at Lance’s dismay. “What? Afraid of a little cardio?” He teased.

Lance crossed his arms. “N-no. Just… not used to doing 3v3s on a full court.”

“Doesn’t Tier 2 use a full court?” Matt asked. 

Pidge nodded. “Yeah, but we usually only have a half court to practice on. So 98% of the year, we only use half courts.” They shrugged.

“Sounds like you guys need to run more. How about some running buddies?” Shiro suggested.

“Hunk and I already run together!” Pidge announced, a little too eagerly. 

Hunk nodded, looking at Pidge. “Yeah, since we live pretty close together, it’s just convenient.”

“Since when?!” Lance's eyes widened. “Why haven’t I heard of this? I live closer to you than Pidge does!” He complained, crossing his arms and jutting his hip out, looking like an attractive god sent down to execute Keith right where he stood.

Keith let himself look Lance over for a second before turning away guiltily.

Hunk smiled awkwardly at his friend. “W-well, you’re always so busy with your mom and everyone so Pidge and I started running together.”

“Yeah, we don’t even run in the mornings like you do! It’d be hard to fit our schedules together.” Pidge shrugged.

“I _work_ with Hunk! We practically have the same schedule!” Lance was a bit exasperated.

Keith snorted as he crossed his arms.

Shiro gave him a pointed look and smiled in a way that Keith definitely did _not_ like. “Where do you live, Lance?” His brother asked, looking mischievous.

“Uh, by 48th and Sloane.” Lance answered with a quirk in his brow, his stance of sass dying down as he talked to Shiro.

Keith felt a sinking in his gut as his arms prickled with goosebumps. He saw Shiro’s eyes light up and knew what was about to happen. “What a coincidence,” Shiro smiled brightly. “Keith lives around there!”

Lance looked a bit taken back. “O-oh.”

“He runs in the mornings too. How about you run with him? Maybe you guys can make it a part of your little rivalry. See who can run the most or maybe have some races.” Shiro suggested with a bright look.

“Uh,” Keith started, looking over to Lance, who was already looking at him apparently.

“Okay.” Lance answered as Keith met his eyes.

Keith furrowed his brows as his eyes clearly showed his surprise. “ _Okay?_ You want to run with me?”

Lance shrugged, looking away. “Could be worse, I guess.” He dismissed.

Keith bit his tongue.

He didn’t really like running with other people, but it _was_ more time with Lance. Even though his old friend didn’t seem to really care either way. But he did agree, so that had to mean something. He was at least okay with the idea.

Keith answered in a way that matched Lance’s indifference. He couldn’t very well show his delight right after Lance basically said spending time with Keith wasn’t the worst thing in the world while somehow making it seem like it wasn’t something he’d be overjoyed to do. “Fine, whatever.”

Lance peeked back over to Keith with a curious glint in his eyes. “Uh, so where and what time?”

Keith was fixated on Lance’s confusing eyes. His words rang nonchalant, but his eyes gave a look of excitement. 

“I, uh-”

“Keith can just give you his number.” Shiro offered. “Which we should all exchange with each other before we leave anyway.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Pidge nodded with fervor.

“Agreed!” Hunk joined in, nodding with Matt.

Why were his teammates acting so odd? Like they were in on something Keith wasn’t.

Keith just sighed and gave a shrug. “Sure.”

“Let’s make a team group chat!” Hunk suggested. “We need a training schedule anyway. We don’t know your guys’ routine yet.”

Shiro nodded. “Sounds great. We’ll definitely do that.”

“Okay, then!” Matt smiled. “Phone numbers later, 3v3s now!”

“Woot, woot!” Pidge hollered, sharing their brother’s enthusiasm.

Hunk pumped his fist as they all jogged onto the court once again. Keith was a little confused but mostly excited. He couldn’t complain really. He was getting Lance’s number _and_ a jogging partner. One he was secretly thrilled about spending more time with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been a sucker for Lance dying at the sight of Keith putting his hair back and yes, I did use the word "yeet" in this chapter. It came so naturally to me when writing that I figured I would just leave it in xD
> 
> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Also, I've posted art for this chapter on my tumblr! https://ryderwryter.tumblr.com/post/618410696595668992/ryderart-a-scene-from-chapter-four-of-chest-pass


	5. modern letters - lance's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Rachel is so freaking fun! I love her so much <333

Lance was strangely focused.

Which was unusual for him when he was overwhelmed with glee. And while his skin still buzzed with delight as he practically skipped everywhere, he wasn’t distracted by the high that happiness brought.

He was determined, if anything.

Maybe his brain was too fixated on the subject of his excitement to get lost in the sparkly world of gaiety around him. He was ecstatic to be a part of Voltron, but he knew he couldn’t just live off that high. Lance was prepared to continue proving himself, even if he had already been accepted to the Tier 1 team. He knew stagnancy wasn’t worth investing in, so he’d show them how he could improve. He’d become an even better asset than he'd already shown. 

He was going to do his best.

He _wanted_ this.

It helped that he had Keith to distract him and fill his blood with fire, pushing him even more. The raven haired guy seemed to be pretty picky about his routine so Lance counted himself lucky. He’d be running, training, and competing with his own personal trainer. They would push each other to do better, _be_ better.

God, Lance loved having a rival.

Though, it was a little too distracting to have a rival as attractive as Keith. Hell, Lance had nearly choked just watching him take his shirt off. Not to mention how nervous he made Lance during the rest of the regimen. There was something about having Keith’s individual attention on him—without the interest of competitive purposes—that was extremely nerve-wracking.

But Lance figured he’d get over it. He may be weak for attractive guys with intense indigo eyes, but they were _rivals_. There were more important things to think about regarding Keith other than his looks. Like when Keith would text him to plan their first run together.

An evening breeze swept over Lance as he pulled his phone out to check it. No new messages. But that was probably because they just left Allura’s building less than a minute ago. Hunk and Pidge were still trailing behind him as they walked along the city sidewalks.

Lance shrugged off his weird disappointment as he breathed in the fresh spring air. He’d probably get a text from Keith later. It wasn’t like he'd _never_ hear from him-

“I think Shiro’s in on it.” Hunk whispered excitedly to Pidge.

“Oh, he’s definitely in on it! _He_ suggested the running. And numbers!” Pidge whispered back with a palpable excitement.

Lance raised a curious brow to himself.

“I mean, Shiro is _preeetty_ close with Keith. So I think he’d know what’s up.” Hunk added. Lance could practically hear his eyebrows waggling. “Keith is-”

He decided to turn around and stop in front of his secretive friends. “What about Keith? And what are you guys going on about anyway?”

Hunk swallowed thickly as Pidge feigned an innocent look. “Oh, nothing.”

Lance gave them a look. “Nothing, my ass. Why are you so concerned with Keith? And what is Shiro _in on_?”

Hunk shared a look with Pidge.

“Now what was _that_ ? That little look.” Lance motioned between the two of them. “First the running together without even telling me and now this? What’s going on guys? Am I not a part of this team too?” He resisted the urge to jut out his bottom lip. He wasn’t a child. But yeah, he was a little sad that his friends couldn’t bother including him in things they could easily do _together_.

Pidge took a breath and walked up to put a hand on Lance’s arm. “It’s not what you’re thinking. We still love and care about you, Lance. We were just-”

“Gossiping!” Hunk blurted, coming up to Lance’s other side.

Pidge side eyed Hunk. “A little too close to home.” They tried to mumble under their breath, but Lance heard. 

“N-not in like a bad way.” Hunk waved his hands in front of his face. “Just about how, uh, close Keith and Shiro are.” He forced a laugh. “It’s like get a room, jeez!”

Lance felt his heart stumble into a panic, but Pidge’s words were quick to diffuse the odd pangs in his chest. “They’re brothers, Hunk! Gross!” 

_Oh. Brothers_ , Lance thought, _That’s good. Normal, really. Neither good, nor bad. I’m indifferent for sure._ Lance wasn’t sure why he was so affected by it, but at least he hadn’t said the stupid thoughts out loud.

“Oh. I meant… I meant it like they’re such good teammates and such, so…” Hunk stopped trying to explain himself once he noticed the unconvinced faces in front of him.

Pidge turned Lance around, making them all walk once again. “We were talking about how Shiro might help us get more familiar with Keith. He seems like a bit of a mystery. Not really sure what he’s about, ya know?”

Lance shook his head.

No, he didn’t know. Because Keith seemed like a pretty straightforward guy. Yeah, he was a bit aloof, but Lance could tell that he was just a hard worker. That he didn’t like to waste his time on things that didn’t really matter.

“We’ve only spent two days with the guy. It would be hard to get to know anybody.” Lance defended. “A-and he’s just… I can tell he takes this seriously. It's Tier 1 after all. He's a determined kind of guy. I-I’m guessing.” Lance shrugged casually.

“Hm,” Pidge nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah. That makes sense. I suppose we’ll just have to get to know him over time. We’ll be spending a lot of time together after all.”

“I’m imagining weekly practices at the least.” Hunk added. “These guys go hard, so it may even be biweekly.”

“Hey, your favorite week, Lance.” Pidge playfully whacked him on the arm.

He just rolled his eyes with a small smile. “So, when did you guys start running together?” Yeah, he was still on that.

Pidge released a sigh. “Uh, yeah. About that… we, uh, we lied?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Lance gave them a weird look.

“Telling you.” Hunk took over. “But! To make up for it, we’re actually going to start doing it!” He smiled.

“Why would you even make that up?” Lance looked between his friends, exasperated.

“W-well,” Hunk swallowed. “We just want you to-”

“To focus!” Pidge finished. “We don’t want to distract you, which is easy to do when all three of us are involved.” They gave a laugh, nudging Lance’s side with their elbow. “A-and hey, look at this as a positive thing. Maybe running with Keith will help you. Since you guys _are_ rivals and everything.”

“It’ll probably help distract you from the bad pressure of the Champs and being on a high-skill team and-”

“Hunk is right and needs to stop talking before he makes you worry about useless things again.” Pidge gave Hunk a pointed look. “Let’s just say, he’s a good distraction.”

Lance swallowed uncomfortably at how well they’d read him. They were his friends after all. “Uh, yeah. Keith is a pretty good distraction. But-” Lance heard Hunk choke on a laugh to his right. He swiveled his head to throw him a confused stare. “What? What was funny about that?”

Could they tell Lance thought Keith’s body should be illegal? Or that his rival was providing him with a little too much heat? Or-

“The irony.” Pidge smirked, but quickly moved on before Lance could question it. “Just don’t get _too_ distracted.”

“What the fuck?” Lance shook his head at his friends, trying to at least _pretend_ like they weren’t right.

“That’s my line, dude.” Pidge lightly punched him in the arm. “If you’re such good rivals, then why were you staring at Keith like you wanted to jump his bones?” They asked, giving Hunk another pointed look, as if they were communicating through glances.

“What are you even talking about?” Lance tried to frown, but now he was just worried that his competitive face was a little too “heated” when Keith was involved.

Hunk squeezed Lance’s shoulder. “We’re just wondering what happened out there. We don’t want our best player getting lost in the middle of a game.”

Lance sighed.

He had let Keith distract him quite a bit in that first half. But that was just banter and… well, he couldn’t deny how his heart raced as Keith put his hair back. But that was unrelated. That was _before_ the match.

And sure, there was _one_ time during their game where Lance had nearly told Keith he was hot right to his face, but Lance caught himself!

He supposed they had a point though. He was getting too lost in Keith. That guy was supposed to distract him from the outer pressures to help him compete better. He wasn’t supposed to keep Lance’s attention for anything more than that. Lance needed to focus on their rivalry, and not Keith’s rippling abs or silky hair or weirdly familiar moves.

“Oh, shit.” Pidge hissed. “I’m going the wrong _fucking_ way. See you guys whenever they text us the training schedule! _Byyyyeee_.” They punched Lance in the shoulder one last time before running back the way they came.

“See ya!” Hunk waved as Lance snorted, rubbing his arm.

Lance sighed after a minute and Hunk hugged him from the side. “Dude, don’t be down. You’ll be more focused next time! And hey, we got onto the team of our dreams! We get to play for _fun_ and have amazing facilities to practice in. This is exciting.” Hunk grinned at him.

He was right. Lance would just put his feelings of rainbows and stupidity aside and focus on _competing_ with Keith. Nothing more, nothing less. It was pointless to be attracted to him anyway. That guy was totally straight as hell, if not disgusted by anyone’s touch in general. Though he had touched Lance’s hand during ball training and-

Lance shook his head to get rid of his train of thought. He blinked a couple times before looking at his friend, nodding. “You’re right.” Lance gave a laugh. “I can’t believe this is happening. How is this happening?!”

“I know, right?!” Hunk nodded enthusiastically. “A private court, too!! Like _what_?”

“Dude, I know! I’m so excited about that.” Lance exhaled dreamily. “I wonder if we even need to go through the preliminary interviews for the applications if we’ve already competed in the Streetball Competition before. We _were_ two different teams, though.”

“The Volcats won last year, so even if they’re going by a different name and have new teammates, I don’t think it matters. As long as you’ve already made it to the Champs once before I’m pretty sure we’re good to skip the interviews.” Hunk shrugged a shoulder. “We didn’t have to do our Tier 2 interview last year since we made it to the Champs the previous year. Even though it was in a different tier.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” Lance nodded thoughtfully as he looked both ways before jaywalking, Hunk quick at his heels. “And since it’s Tier 1 we won’t have to start our bracket games until freakin’ July, dude.”

“Sweet! We’ll have a few free months to train. I almost forgot Tier 1 goes last since it’s ‘the most profitable’ or they’re saving the best for last or something. I can never remember why.”

Lance shrugged. “Whatever the reason, it’s nice to have more time to really get used to playing as a team.”

“I agree, man.” Hunk patted his shoulder, then jammed his thumb to his right. “I’m gonna drop by my mom’s on the way home, so imma head this way. Get home safe, okay?”

“You too, dude. See you at practice!” Lance smiled at the words.

He had a full team again. They were going to have practices, and meetings, and training regimens. He also had a wonderful manager and access to a dream court and training facilities. It all seemed a little crazy to think about, but it was so fucking exciting. Lance was happy. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

It was nice having something to look forward to.

Lance was happy about a lot of things in his life. He wasn’t mistaken that he was fortunate to have such a wonderful and loving family, a great job with his friend, and a room of his own.

But it felt good having something that woke his insides up, filling him with drive. A heat and passion. Something that was the fireworks in his night sky of life. That was _streetball_. And as much as people liked to think it was just some rowdy sport for aggressive people it was so much _more_ than that. Lance couldn’t deny that it was intense, but that wasn’t all it was. It was an escape as much as it was something that brought people together.

He would never be able to thank Allura enough. To get into the competition without having to worry about the money. Which allowed for it to be just about the game. And that was really the driving point because Lance thrived on the adrenaline. He was made to compete. To be in front of a crowd, showing off what he practiced so hard on.

Having another opportunity filled Lance with a sense of purpose. It was exhilarating to have that ambition again.

Because yeah, maybe after losing his first shot at Tier 1 Champs, he became a little cautious. He pursued Tier 2, because it made him feel safe. Because he knew he was only good enough for the “easy” one. Because he had convinced himself that he wasn’t Tier 1 material. That he didn’t have the money _or_ talent for it.

But that wasn’t what he should’ve focused on. It wasn’t about talent. It was about _skill_. And that was earned. It was forged through hard work and perseverance. It looked different for some, but it was always something that could be achieved. So it wasn’t hopeless. He had a chance. A shot to prove himself again.

He felt driven—overwhelmed with the urge to do well. To bond with his new teammates and _compete_. Lance remembered how intoxicating it was to be confident in his abilities. When Yurak had helped him feel his full potential, showing him a version of basketball that taught him more than the original ever had.

He couldn’t get enough of the high.

_Fuck_. He felt so _alive_.

He looked forward to training with his team. To laughing with everyone during practice. To cheering with them after games won. To the deep, inspirational talks after games lost, which would hopefully be none. To going head to head with Keith and finally beating him in a 1v1. And running with him, which Lance still didn’t know when was happening.

But he eventually found out.

It wasn’t until Lance was walking up the last flight of stairs in his apartment building did he receive the text.

**(18:37) Mullet:** I run at 7 am five days a week

_Short and sweet._ Just like Keith.

Lance felt a smile curl up on his face. He wondered if having Keith’s number would get him into trouble. It certainly would if he ever went drinking. He could definitely see himself calling Keith for an inebriated game of basketball in the middle of the night.

He chuckled to himself as he walked the familiar halls of his floor without having to look up from his phone. He was about to type a reply when another text came through.

**(18:38) Mullet:** The time is subject to change depending on if we’re team training that day or not

Who the fuck texted like that?

Keith was weird alright. Lance was going to have to show him the ropes to being a human being. Not that he minded helping his rival, because rivals could be complex and layered. They weren’t just purely competitors. They were whatever they wanted to be. Whatever felt right.

He texted him back as he unlocked his apartment door.

**(18:40) Lance:** great! like we’ll just skip the morning cardio and run to or during practice?

**(18:40) Mullet:** Yeah

Lance walked inside with a smile lingering on his lips.

“Who did you fuck?” Rachel blurted as she chomped on a stick of celery.

Of course. It took two seconds for someone to comment on his smile. He should’ve known to show no sign of emotion when entering a place where his siblings roamed.

Lance shoved his phone in his pocket, feeling it buzz again, but ignored it to glare at his sister. “Better not let Mamá hear that foul mouth of yours.” He countered.

Rachel rolled her eyes as she hopped off the kitchen counter. “She went out to the corner market. So tell me. Who’s got our precious Lance smiling so grossly?” She quirked her eyebrows.

Lance huffed a humorless laugh, continuing to walk to his room as his sister followed close behind. “No one. I’m happy about something else.”

“Oh?” Rachel leaned against the door jamb leading into his room.

Lance fell back on his bed and looked up at his stars. “Yeah… Just good stuff.” He shrugged. He glanced over to watch Rachel move from the doorway and to his desk.

She sat at his chair, staring at him as she took another bite out of her veggie. “Well?”

“Well what?” Lance sniffed boredly.

She rolled her eyes. “Lance. You're one hell of a conversationalist.” She uttered sarcastically, then flailed her celery at him. “Obviously I want to hear about this great thing happening to you!”

Lance thought for a moment then propped himself up on his elbow, looking at his sister intently. “You can’t tell Mamá.” He stated. “Not yet.”

He wanted to wait until he actually had the chance to prove himself on Team Voltron. They hadn’t even had a proper game yet, so it didn’t feel right to be yelling it to the world. It would be much easier telling his mom he was competing with a new team if he had something under his belt. Like winning his bracket. That would be something worthy of telling her, because it’d show her how serious he was. How _good_ they were.

But Rachel was just Rachel. She probably wouldn’t care either way.

She nodded lazily. “Yeah, sure.”

“Rach. _Promise_?” He leaned in closer to her.

“Of course, Lance. When have I ever spilled one of your secrets?” She huffed.

Lance just gave her a look.

He still remembered the time when his mom first found out he was playing “dangerous” streetball with “big and scary” older kids. He had only told Luis since he was asking him for some tips, but Rachel just so happened to pass by his room and overhear. Before she tattled on him to their mom, she followed him to where he’d practice with Yurak, and even stalked them after school when they’d hang out.

She let go of an awkward laugh. “ _Oookay_. It was _one_ time! I didn’t really even consider that to be a secret anyway. It was _so_ obvious.”

“It obviously _wasn’t_ , because after you told her that I was spending all my time playing streetball, you said it was because of my _boyfriend_. Yurak was _not_ my boyfriend.” Lance sat up to glare at her properly.

“Might as well have been.” She shrugged a shoulder, then tossed the rest of her snack into her mouth.

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Lance laid back down.

“Ah!” Rachel squawked. “ _Why_?”

“Because you’re impossible!” Lance crossed his arms over his face. He heard his sister shuffle over to his bed, then he felt her punch. He instantly moved his arms to scowl at her. “ _Ow_! The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I’m not _impossible_. I just say what I see.” She stated. “I’m not sorry for seeing what you couldn’t, but… I _am_ sorry for telling mom.” She frowned.

Lance sat up. “Why do you even care?”

“Because we haven’t talked much lately. And I like hearing about the things that are going good for you.” She sat next to him.

Lance scratched his head as he thought about it. He finally sighed as he turned to face her. “Fine. But you better not betray my trust this time.”

She nodded, then held out her pinky. Lance wrapped his pinky around hers, then they took their thumbs and pressed them together, sealing the pinky promise.

“I joined a Tier 1 team.” Lance could barely hold back his smile.

Rachel blinked a couple times. “I’m sorry. What does that mean again?”

“Uh, basically I get to compete in the top section of the Streetball Champs. I-if we beat our bracket that is, but I’m sure we will. But I’m, like, playing with a real team. Five players and an alternate. We have a manager and everything! A-and there’s harder competition!” Lance explained enthusiastically. 

“That’s awesome.” Rachel looked like she was trying to understand the appeal. At least she was trying.

“We get a chance to win thousands of dollars.” He offered.

Lance knew the money was an appealing part of the Champs for sure. But he was trying not to think about it too much. It made his gut fill with nauseating butterflies, and if he concentrated on the potential monetary gain, he wouldn’t be playing for the right reasons. For _his_ reasons.

“How much?!” She was instantly invested.

He thought for a moment. When he had played in the Tier 1 Champs for the first time, the winning team would’ve gotten about $100,000. But the Garrison Streetball Competition had grown significantly in the past two years. So he wasn’t exactly sure. “Uh, probably a hundred and twenty thousand maybe?”

“HOOOOLY-OHMIGOD, _LANCE_!!!” She stood up and looked at him like he was crazy for not telling her this sooner.

He held up his hands to calm her down. “I-It’s split up between your teammates, of course. But yeah. It’s a lot of money.” He nearly stared blankly at his wall, realizing it really _was_ a lot of money. He swallowed. “Uh, but that’s not even the best part!”

Rachel instantly looked at him with wide eyes. “How is that not the best part?!”

“'Cause I get access to a beautiful private indoor court?” He grinned, then quickly realized that probably didn’t mean much to his sister. He watched her expression dwindle, and for some reason he didn’t want their mutual excitement to end. “And my new team has a bunch of hot guys.” He blurted.

That lit up her eyes again. “Tell me about them!” She sat back down on his bed, leaning in with excitement.

Lance laughed and scooted back to lean against his headboard. “Uh, well there’s Pidge’s brother-”

“Matt!” She smirked.

“How the hell do you know Matt?” Lance gently furrowed his brows as she crawled to sit next to him.

“Oh, I stalk his insta.” She shrugged and Lance just shook his head in disbelief. “And you mentioned him a lot in middle school, so I’ve known they were siblings since you’ve been friends with Pidge.”

He almost forgot about that little crush.

But if she’s been invested in Matt’s instagram for that long, then… “Uh, does he post just himself o-or his teammates too? Cause then you’ve probably already seen them.”

“He mostly posts pictures of his work or personal projects, but there’s the occasional gym selfie! That’s really why I’m there. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Coding and astro exploration is interesting and everything, but the guy really needs to appreciate his abs more. As in, he needs to post them more.” She frowned sympathetically at her own misfortune.

“ _Riiight_.”

“Should we try to stalk your other teammates?” Her eyes lit up and Lance instantly felt uneasy about that. “It’ll be so much easier for me to understand your point if I have pictures.” She was already getting out her phone. “After all, I am a _visual_ learner.” She giggled excitedly, pulling up her account and typed in what Lance assumed was Matt’s username. “If they’re friends and teammates, then Matt is probably following them. Just give me the names and I can look them up in the people he’s following.”

Lance sighed, but he couldn’t deny he was curious to see what kind of things Keith posted. “Uh, let’s do Shiro first. I think his first name is Takashi. H-he’s a real tall guy with dark hair and a scar across his nose.”

Rachel typed in a couple variations of his name and found him within a few moments. She tapped on his profile, revealing Shiro’s interesting gallery. Most of the pictures were of landscapes around the city. Lance recognized a lot of them. 

He was surprised at how well taken they were. They were even edited decently. So Shiro was a bit of a photographer. He hadn’t really expected that. Though, he did only meet him twice, and both times were to play basketball, so he hadn’t had much else on his mind.

But he’d like to get to know his teammates better.

“Wow, is this him?” Rachel tapped on a picture posted about a week ago.

It was a sophisticated full mirror pic with Shiro wearing a slick suit. An insanely attractive suit. Lance didn’t know much about fancy outfits, but it looked expensive. Even the bedroom in the reflection looked like it was decorated by a rich person.

“Uh, yeah.” Lance nodded.

Rachel sighed dreamily. “You’re right. He is hot.” Then she started scrolling further down in search of more selfies. 

She found several good ones in her hunt, but the best one—in Lance’s opinion—was the one where Shiro had his arm over the shoulders of a grumpy looking Keith. Still looking as attractive as ever. It was from a couple years ago, proving Keith had been hot for a while and just continued to grow into his extreme sexiness.

But the thing that struck Lance as weird was… he sort of looked familiar. His hair was a little shorter, and that was definitely still Keith, but there was just something about him.

“Uh, that’s our third new teammate, Keith.” Lance mentioned, still unable to get over the weird feeling in his gut.

“He's really hot, too.” Rachel praised dreamily. “You’re right, Lance. These guys are pretty attractive. Shiro is mighty foine.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Lance rolled his eyes and shut off her phone’s screen. “They’re also really good players.”

“Mhmm. I’m sure that’s what you notice when you’re practicing with them.” She teased and Lance huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

It kind of felt good having some bonding time with his sister. They really had both been pretty busy. She was in her freshman year of college, studying hard, and Lance had been working a lot more. Nearly every day.

“You don’t wanna look up Keith?” She raised a curious brow.

Lance shook his head. “You already saw him.”

“Aww, come on! I saw your reaction to him. He’s the one you like the most, right?” She smirked.

“W-what?! Why would you think that??” He squeaked. “H-how did I, uh, react to him?” He swallowed.

Rachel gave an impish smile. “Oh, you know. Your eyes lit up and a little smile appeared on your face. Not to mention the way your eyebrows turned up in a cute look of tenderness.” She explained much to Lance’s dismay.

“You’re lying.” He frowned at her.

“Not at all.” She blinked at him, clearly pleased with his flustered reaction. Lance's phone buzzed in his pocket and Rachel looked down then back at him with a mischievous smirk. "Is that him?" She pressed. "Were you smiling 'cause you're texting a hot boy from your team?!"

"N-no! I mean I _am_ texting him, but-"

Lance had no idea why he decided to let her have that information because as soon as it slipped off his tongue, Rachel had skillfully frisked his pocket, retrieving his phone. She wasted no time in running away with it as Lance stumbled after her.

“Raaaccheel!” Lance roared as he chased her down the hallway.

She laughed maniacally as she raced to her room. She slammed her door and locked it a split second before Lance could charge in. Lance banged on the worn wood.

“Give me my phone back, you little twerp!” Lance yelled. “Why did you have to ruin a good sibling bonding moment?”

She just laughed from right inside the door. “We’re still bonding, dummy.”

Lance groaned, but realized that he had a passcode to his phone. He released a breath. “Don’t lock me out with all your little code attempts. You’ll never get it.” He claimed.

“Oh, really?” Lance didn’t like her confident tone. “Seems like you forget that you’re not careful with who you open your phone around.”

“Rachel. Come on. Please give me my phone back.” He tried pleading with her, but his sister was never easy to guilt into compassion.

He heard her shocked gasp and Lance squeezed his eyes shut, dreading what she was looking at.

“Lance!” She scoffed. “He texted you a half an hour ago and you still haven’t replied. You’re so rude.”

So she figured out that he was Mullet. He supposed it wasn’t hard to guess. She did see a picture of him. “ _We_ were talking, having sibling time. And you don’t answer my texts for hours!”

She huffed a laugh. “I’m not the guy you’re trying to date.”

“ _He’s_ not the guy I’m trying to date!” Lance squeaked.

“Oh, then who is?” Rachel droned.

“No one!”

“As I thought. It _is_ him.” Lance could just hear her smirk.

“You’re impossible. Give me my phone back!” He snarled.

“Not just yet.” She sang, then a few moments later the door unlocked and she opened it. “Here.” She handed his phone back and Lance snatched it up, frowning at her. “It was pretty boring anyway. You guys, like, _just_ started texting.” She stated, like Lance didn’t already know. “Nothing juicy’s happened yet. How disappointing.” She pouted.

“What is wrong with you?” He huffed and left for his room, closing the door and locking it for good measure.

Once he was safely back on his bed he looked at the texts. He noticed a new one from Keith and a couple from a new group text. He quickly went through them and didn’t see any foul play. Thank god she hadn’t actually texted anyone. Lance wouldn’t be able to live through the embarrassment.

He decided to answer Keith’s text first.

**(18:42) Mullet:** Also, Shiro said I should ask you what days you’d want to run with me, but I already have a schedule: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. I don’t expect you to run with me all the time, so just let me know when you’d be joining me and I can meet you in front of your place

“Jeez.” Lance sighed to himself.

It was true, Lance didn’t run very often. As much as he’d like to think he had a perfect training regimen, Keith reminded him that he most definitely didn’t. Running more than three times a week sounded like way too much to him. He _barely_ did that.

It’s not like they were in the NBA or training for a marathon.

**(19:15) Lance:** uh u dont have to, where do u normally run? I can just meet u there

Lance moved on to see the new group messages.

**(19:08) Team Voltron Assemble!** was created by **Pidgetty Cricket**

**(19:08) Pidgetty Cricket:** Hey, guys! Just wanted to start this group so we can get a headstart on the inside jokes and memes. That is all.

**(19:10) Hunky Boi:** good thinkin pidgey!

**(19:13) ShirO Capn My Capn:** Very nice :) Also, as for team training times, we usually get together twice a week if our schedules allow. The plan for the upcoming week is to practice on Wednesday and Sunday. We can discuss times and see if we’re able to get everyone to come.

**(19:15) Zaddy Matty:** i’m free anytme after 3 also pidge r u even tall enogh to share memes ?

Lance was now seeing where Keith got his texting gene from. Though, he somewhat expected Shiro to text like that. He just looked like the type. But he didn’t expect the sibling of Pidge to text like _himself_. He nearly laughed, knowing how much Pidge was probably itching their skin just looking at it.

**(19:17) Lance:** I work til 4 on wed but am off sun ;*

**(19:17) Hunky Boi:** same! except not rly. I work on Sunday til 2 <3

**(19:18) Pidgetty Cricket:** I am free both days after three as well. Also, fuck you, Matt. I’m no longer explaining them to you.

**(19:18) Zaddy Matty:** ;_; y tho IS WAT I WLD’VE SAID if i actually didnt understand so jokes on u

**(19:20)** **ShirO Capn My Capn:** Great! Keith said he is pretty much open those days as well. :) So, let’s try to meet at Allura’s court at five on Wednesday, and four on Sunday.

Lance wondered if Keith and Shiro lived together. He just texted that Keith “said” that, so they were probably together. And it was getting kind of late. So maybe they did. He wondered if that made bringing home guests weird.

_N-not like partners or anything_ , Lance shook his head.

He took a moment to realize how much of an idiot he was, and sighed at the fact that he had just stuttered in his own _fucking_ head. But he couldn’t exactly help it. He had just thought about _himself_ being one of Keith’s guests, which could be a possibility if they became friends, and since they were going to run together Keith could easily ask him upstairs for a drink of water or something-

But that wasn’t important! No, nope. Not anything to dwell on.

**(19:20) Hunky Boi:** okie dokie!

**(19:21) Pidgetty Cricket:** Will do.

**(19:22) Lance:** hell yeah can’t wait

Lance saw an incoming text from Keith.

He wondered why he didn’t bother messaging in the group chat. He just messaged Lance so it’s not like he was busy. Maybe it was because he had no need to with Shiro right there. If what Lance was assuming was true. But now that Lance thought about it, he was pretty sure Shiro had said “Keith lives around there” not “ _we_ live around there” when they had talked about running together.

Okay, so they probably didn’t live together. And Lance wasn’t really sure why that even mattered. Or why he was still stuck on it… 

He shook his head and opened Keith’s text.

**(19:23) Mullet:** Riverside Park :)

_Huh_.

A smiley.

Lance was not expecting _that_ to come from Keith. And it wasn’t even like their conversation warranted it. So Lance could only imagine that it was either Shiro texting from Keith’s phone or helping him text. Because Lance had already witnessed two Shiro smilies and it just didn’t make sense for Keith to do it of his own volition.

**(19:25) Lance:** cool

He answered in a way that closed the conversation, because he just couldn’t keep texting Keith. He was having a hard time staying sane after his stupid brain thought of being invited to his place. And the craziest thing about that dangerous concept was that Lance didn’t even have the typical naughty thoughts. No, his brain decided it was going to be concerned with even grosser things than doing the dirty with his rival.

Mundane, domestic things.

Lance had curious thoughts about what the inside of Keith’s home would look like. How did he decorate, if at all? Was he clean or messy? Did he squeeze his toothpaste tube from the middle or work from the bottom up? He wondered what kind of things Keith put on a shelf, or even hid under his bed in a shoebox.

Understandably, Lance was perturbed.

And distressed, because somehow, his one-word reply didn’t stop Keith.

**(19:26) Mullet:** I don’t mind meeting there, but I also don’t mind picking you up

Lance sighed heavily, rolling over on his stomach to bury his face in his pillow. He just needed to focus. _Rival. Rival. Rival._ Hot _rival. But mainly_ rival _rival._ Lifting his head, he typed in his reply.

**(19:28) Lance:** i cld even meet u at ur house, it’s prob closer to riverside right? Doesn’t make sense for u to double back just to meet me

Lance just realized where he was agreeing to run.

He didn’t know if he could run there three times a week. It was probably the nicest place to run, sure. But it didn’t hold good memories… Though, he _could_ just run on the other side of the park. He didn’t even have to be near that dumb statue.

Yeah. He could possibly work with that.

Well, he’d see anyway.

**(19:30) Mullet:** Yeah, sure. I’ll send you the address. When can I expect you?

What era was he from?

**(19:31) Lance:** i can run with you mon, thurs, and sat next week

**(19:32) Mullet:** Alright. See you then

Lance rolled onto his back to look up at his stars with a sigh.

He looked over to his desk as something uneasy settled into his stomach. Maybe he should just rip the bandaid off. Get the whole letter thing out of the way. He had better things to focus on now. Better things to worry about.

After about five minutes of staring, Lance finally got up and sat at his desk. With hesitant fingers, he reached out to open the drawer where his haunting letter laid. He picked it up, feeling the envelope’s heavy burden. A weight that resided solely in his heart.

Lance took a breath and opened the letter slowly… 

He huffed as he pulled out a stupid blank piece of paper.

Blank except for three words.

**_Believe in yourself._ **

“What the fuck kind of junk mail…” Lance stared at it a few seconds more, then searched the back for _anything_ else. “ _This_ is the shit that nearly gave me a heart attack?”

He sat there almost laughing at himself. He had stressed himself out about that fucking letter for half a week, and it just turned out to be some inspirational bullshit that was probably sent to a bunch of random people for no reason.

It wasn’t even promoting anything!

He sighed, about to crumple the letter and throw it in the trash when his hands stilled. He rolled his eyes and shoved it back into his desk drawer. Not entirely sure why he had the urge to keep it… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew the scene where Rachel and Lance are stalking Shiro's insta lolol it was fun (took waayy too long) https://ryderart.tumblr.com/post/619023488885440512/rachel-and-lance-stalk-shiro-on-instagram-eyebrow
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! :D


	6. to smiley or not to smiley - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a little time skip in this one (I can't believe I'm just now getting on with the freaking story lol I'm sorry idek how to plot or write haha)

Keith sighed heavily as he tried to relax on Shiro’s plush couch.

Texting someone shouldn’t have made him so nervous. It wasn’t like he was asking Lance out, or even inconveniencing him in any way. He was just simply letting him know when he was available. To run. Because they somehow became running partners.

Shiro openly set it up, but Keith had an inkling something more was going on there. He would have to ask about it after he got over the upsetting nausea growing in his stomach. It was probably a stupid thing to feel anxious over, but he texted Lance over twenty minutes ago and there was still no reply.

He wouldn’t have worried so much if Lance hadn’t answered so quickly the first time. Now he just couldn’t help wondering if he got hurt, or was stuck somewhere, or ran into any sort of trouble. And Keith wasn’t usually a worrier. His brain just had different rules for Lance. For the people he cared about.

Everything was probably fine. Lance was more than likely just busy. It’s not like Keith scared him off or anything… Or did he? Maybe Keith’s text came off more rude than he intended. Was it too cold? Weird even? Texting never easily displayed tone. Not that Keith even had much range to begin with.

But they were rivals, so it was probably better that it came off sounding a little rough. They weren’t exactly buddy-buddy yet. So it couldn’t have been how he texted, right?

Either way, the lack of a response made Keith’s gut churn with unease.

God, he hated the anticipation. He hated feeling so stupid for waiting by his phone wondering if he had done something wrong just because Lance wasn’t answering. He took a few steadying breaths, unintentionally attracting Shiro’s attention.

“Did you ask him about the days?” Shiro asked from the other side of the couch.

Keith looked up then away. “Sort of.” 

He more so  _ told  _ Lance what days he ran.

Maybe it was because he seemed rude… 

“Are you worried you sound too mean?” Keith could hear the gentle concern in his brother’s tone.

“I-I’m not sure… I just…” Keith trailed off. He didn’t really know what the problem was. 

He heard Shiro stand up and looked up to see him making his way over.

“Do you want some help?” Shiro raised his brows slightly as he sat down next to him.

Keith shook his head. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Of course not.” Shiro caught his eyes. “But you do have a harder time than most with social situations. And that’s okay. I’m offering my help to make it easier on you. I can see you’re stressing out about it.”

Keith swallowed, thinking for a moment, then handed Shiro his phone. “Okay…”

His brother took a few moments to look over the conversation before nodding to himself. “How about trying to add a smiley face next time? Emoticons can help convey the feeling of your text. Since we tend to write rather uptight, I find a smiley face here and there can help the text seem less… intimidating. Or arrogant.”

Everything in Keith told him not to send a stupid smiley face. It wasn’t him at all. But Shiro did know more than Keith regarding social situations, and he tended to give good advice. So maybe it was worth a shot. But just  _ once _ , and if Lance freaked out about it, then he’d never use a damn smiley face again. And he’d probably have to assume a new identity and move out of the country, but that was probably just him being dramatic.

“Thanks.” Keith gave his brother a fleeting smile.

“No problem. Also,” Shiro looked at his phone for a second, “are you free this, uh, Wednesday and Sunday?”

Keith searched his phone for his schedule. “I’m off Wednesday, but I have to get ready to go in at nine on Sunday. I picked up a half-shift.”

“Alright.” Shiro nodded to himself for a moment, then straightened up so quickly that it startled Keith. “Hey! The team should drop by when you’re working sometime.”

Keith gave his brother a look. “Please don’t do that.”

“Oh, come on, Keith. It’d be fun. Marmora’s a great hangout.” He smiled persuasively. 

“Is Pidge even old enough to drink?” Keith countered.

Shiro huffed a laugh. “It’s a dive bar in Midtown East. No one is going to care if they’re there. They probably won’t even drink anyway.”

Keith groaned, thinking. He wouldn’t mind an opportunity to bond with his teammates, but it felt  _ way  _ too soon for them to see his bartending skills. Keith wasn’t exactly the showy type. If he was asked for a drink, he’d make the damn drink. He didn’t need pretentious movements to make his job harder. He was more concerned with efficiency.

Keith let go of a sigh. “Not now, but maybe after a bit… It’s too soon for them to be seeing me at my place of work.”

“Okay, deal.” Shiro smiled at him.

Keith just slouched further into the couch and checked his phone once more, promising himself that he’d leave the damn thing alone until he actually received a notification. But he’d apparently gotten one. Two minutes ago.

**(19:11) Lance McClain:** hi this is lances sister, thx for making him smile and being a great teammate ;) okie gtg lance is yelling at me to give his phone bck so I gotta delete this now, don’t reply <3

Keith blinked a few times, staring at the odd message.

Lance’s sister took his phone just to text Keith? Saying Keith had made Lance _smile_? How was that something that could be proven? Anything could’ve made Lance smile. That didn’t mean it was Keith. They hadn’t even texted about anything to warrant such a reaction. Unless… Had Lance been talking about him?

No. That was stupid. It couldn’t be that.

Then what was it? Because Keith didn’t understand at all. Though, he figured he probably never would. All he would know was that, for some reason, Lance’s sister had the urge to text Keith from Lance’s phone just to say that. And that it made his stomach erupt with a sickening excitement.

It seemed likely that it was the sister Lance complained about. The one Keith actually met a couple times during freshman year. The bright-eyed kid who told on Lance for playing a “dangerous” sport. What was her name again? It started with an A or R. Something like that.

Keith recalled thinking she was pretty outgoing. Very vocal in how she thought Lance was sneaking around with his “boy friend” too much. And yeah, younger Keith had a field day with her use of the words  _ boy _ and  _ friend _ so close together. He knew she was just some kid, so it meant nothing, but Keith’s heart fluttered every time she said it.

He was an idiot like that.

Another buzz.

**(19:15) Lance McClain:** uh u don’t have to, where do u normally run? I can just meet u there

There was Lance again.

Keith figured it was okay to text back, but now there was the dilemma of the smiley face. He honestly thought about it for too long. It felt so dumb to be so unsure about a stupid colon and right parenthesis. But Lance’s sister had used one, well, a winky face but same difference. So maybe the McClain’s were the type of family to send smiley faces all the time.

Or was it just his sister?

Keith took a deep breath and mechanically typed in his reply with a sick feeling in his gut. Just tapping on the stupid symbols made him grimace. But he’d listen to Shiro’s advice and see how it played out.

**(19:23) Keith:** Riverside Park :)

He couldn’t bear looking at the dumb text any longer so decided to check in on the group chat that he had muted the instant he was added. As he scrolled through the texts, he realized that Shiro had already answered for him, so he really had no reason to respond. He certainly didn’t mind. It saved him time from doing it himself. Gave him more time to stress over how he texted Lance. Because that was a constructive thing to do with his time… 

“Uh, Shiro?” Keith swallowed thickly.

Shiro leaned over, instantly there for his brother. “What is it? Did he text back?”

Keith nodded. “He said, ‘cool.’ I should probably stop texting him now, right?”

His brother raised a brow as he looked over the conversation again. “I would offer to pick him up once more. Just to give him another opportunity to accept if he was nervous to say yes at first. You guys are barely acquaintances, so the formalities are still there.” 

“Okay.” Keith mumbled.

He really just wanted to be done with the texting thing. It was making him nauseous, and not in the warm, fuzzy kind of way. Keith always had a hard time talking to people, and adding technology to the mix didn’t help. Fortunately, his conversation with Lance didn’t last much longer, and Keith finally had a date and time for their first run together.

Waking up that Monday morning had been way too easy.

Keith usually griped and groaned, cursing his alarms as he’d rub the sleep from his eyes. Only getting out of bed, because he had a routine to maintain. But this time was different. His insides thrummed with excitement, stimulating his sleepy cells. His eyes opened like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

It was effortless.

He could tell it had something to do with the fact he was going to run with Lance because his heart was way too tingly for it to be anything else. There was just no way he’d be feeling that enthusiastic about a morning run. It had to be Lance.

Keith was ready ten minutes before they were supposed to meet at his place. But he didn’t mind stretching in front of his building as he waited. It’d give his stomach some time to settle. For the sickening butterflies to stop flitting about and get a fucking grip.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get time to relax, because a familiar, lean back came into view as he opened his building’s outer door. The figure sat on Keith’s front steps looking entirely too tempting in his tight, black long-sleeved shirt. Keith appreciated the way his compression tights hugged his long legs under his grey shorts. But he had to stop ogling because it wasn’t the time, and Lance was starting to turn around.

Short brunette locks fluttered with a sudden gust of wind as Lance looked over his shoulder. Stunning blue eyes locked onto Keith’s, causing a breath to stick in his throat. Lance’s face looked a little tired, but impossibly beautiful—as usual.

Keith let his building door close all the way as Lance quickly stood up.

“Sorry. I’m kind of early.” Lance faced him with an awkward smile.

Keith shook his head gently. “It’s fine. Uh, were you waiting long? You could’ve just texted me.” He walked down the steps to meet Lance at the bottom.

“I-I just got here.” He shrugged, then looked up at Keith’s apartment building. “You have a really nice place.”

Keith knew what his building looked like, but he looked back at it anyway. Just to make sure Lance was looking at the same thing he was. To make sure it hadn’t changed since the last time he saw it. Last night.

“Uh,” Keith’s eyes roamed over the aged brick, unsightly fire escapes decorating the front of old, arched windows, and stubborn ivy that climbed its left side. “Are you trying to be nice right now?”

Lance chuckled. “No, I honestly like it. And it’s tall.”

_ Tall? _

“Are you new to the city?” Keith quipped.

Lance playfully rolled his eyes. "I just… my building isn’t very tall.”

“You like heights then?” Keith started stretching.

Lance mirrored him. “Uh, more like… the view, I guess. My roof is only good for finding stray cats. They really like it up there for some reason. I hope my sister isn’t still feeding them.”

Keith stared at Lance’s cute, contemplative expression for a beat longer than he should’ve. “Oh… well, I could show you my roof sometime.”—Lance’s eyes lit up—“I-it’s not anything like Shiro’s, his has a lounge practically made for stargazing, but mine’s decent.”

“That’d be… wow. Yeah, sure.” Lance smiled at him.

When Keith felt like they were stretched enough, he started heading toward Riverside with Lance quick to walk by his side.

Keith cleared his throat, allowing himself a moment to look at Lance’s features before focusing on the sidewalk in front of him. “Uh, your face looks better.”

“My face?” He could hear the surprise in Lance’s voice.

“Your injury.” Keith let himself look over at his old friend. His tan cheeks were ever so slightly flushed. “The bruises.” He explained, motioning to his own nose.

“Oh, yeah.” Lance laughed, glancing at the ground. “That’s good. It’s almost been a week.”

Keith swallowed. “Uh, what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Lance let go of a breath. “Believe it or not, I got knocked out in a pickup game. Atlas has some rough competitors.” He looked over to seemingly gauge Keith’s countenance. 

And although Keith tended to leave his face neutral to give himself more time to react properly, the genuine sympathy he felt for Lance came easily. He didn’t like thinking about anyone hurting Lance. His face automatically contorted to show his displeasure with the thought. Hopefully it didn’t come off as Keith looking like he thought Lance was pathetic. But when he searched Lance’s face, he didn’t seem offended with Keith’s compassion.

“Atlas Park? Is that where you usually play?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded. “It’s not the cleanest, but it’s pretty close.”

“Riverside is way closer though.” Keith raised a brow. “And it has nicer courts.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s true. But I, uh, just really like Atlas. I have a good friend that goes there, too.”

“Oh.” Keith felt like there was something Lance wasn’t saying, but Keith didn’t dive into it. If Lance was comfortable with saying it, he would’ve already. “Do you play with them often?”

Lance laughed fondly. “No, he’s more of a mentor, I guess.”

Keith gave him an amused look. “Oh, so you have a wise old man to give you advice?”

“He’s not  _ that  _ old, but yeah. I suppose I do.” Lance smiled to himself.

Keith felt like their conversation was too friendly for two people who were supposed to be rivals. He depended on the harsh banter between them to help distract him from catching feelings again. 

“Hm, you’d think you would be better then.” Keith tried.

Lance gasped. “How dare you! I’m plenty good.” He defended. “Good enough to be on your team!”

“You’re alright. Just lucky that the application deadline is next week.”

“Are you saying if you had more time, I wouldn’t be a part of your team? Come on, Keith. You know you like having me here.” He quirked his brows, and Keith regretfully felt his chest flutter.

He turned his attention to the sidewalk in front of them, walking around slower pedestrians and avoiding pissing dogs on leashes of inattentive owners. 

He rolled his eyes to offset Lance’s words. “I’ve barely had enough time to make that assessment.” Even though deep down he knew he really did like having Lance around again. But he had to focus on their rivalry or it could all go up in flames. 

Feelings were a precarious thing.

“Well, then mark this moment for the history books because I’m calling it! We’re gonna be great rivals, but you’re going to find my amazing personality and awesome skills hard to ignore. And you’re going to admit you like having me here.” Lance smirked. So sure of himself for someone who had looked entirely unsure in the beginning—when Tier 1 was even mentioned. Perhaps that was the magic of a rivalry.

“Yeah, sure.” Keith scoffed, trying his best to maintain his air of disinterested bad boy.

“I’m glad you agree, oh dark one.” He joked, then a thought seemed to hit him. “Wait. What’s our team color?”

Keith didn’t know where that came from, but he answered anyway. “Black.” He uttered, watching Lance’s casual features burst into amusement.

“How did I fucking know?” He laughed, then continued to tease him. “I suppose it was easy considering, well, you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Keith crossed his arms.

“Careful now,” Lance warned jokingly. “Your emo is showing. Maybe we should lighten the team color to liven you up.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at him. “You already changed the team name. Don’t even think about messing with the color.”

Lance gave an impish smile. “First one to Riverside gets to choose the color!” And he took off sprinting.

Keith didn’t hesitate in running after him.

They easily maneuvered through the pedestrians, racing as if they were made for it. The only time caution slowed them was when they crossed the more populated streets in their area.

Keith smiled as he started gaining on Lance. He hadn’t been that behind in the first place. But as he noticed the park coming into view, his legs worked even harder. Keith was impressed at Lance and his wonderfully long legs, because he surely would’ve won if not for Keith’s desperation to beat him.

He let out a victorious laugh as he reached Riverside just before Lance.

Their legs slowed to a stop next to each other as they panted.

“Nice try.” Keith smirked.

Lance just shook his head. “I almost had you.”

“Better luck next time.” Keith straightened and started to head for Riverside’s main path. But he felt a warm hand grab at his arm. He looked back to see Lance’s worried eyes.

“S-sorry!” Lance let go of him and gave a half-hearted smile. “Do you mind if we, uh, run the outer path?”

“Uh, sure.” Keith shrugged, not really caring which part of the park they ran in. He was more concerned with what had Lance so distressed. His old friend didn’t have to say anything for Keith to see the look in his eye.

It was almost like he was scared.

He didn’t ask, but it did gnaw at him for a while. Because it wasn’t like it was a one time occurrence either. Every planned morning run together, they’d meet at Keith’s house then walk or race to Riverside. And every time they got there, Lance never seemed to want to run the main path.

After the third time, Keith just stopped trying for it altogether. It quickly became their routine to jog the outer path. And it wasn’t like it wasn’t enjoyable. While it was a bit less populated, which Keith didn’t mind at all, it had just as much vegetation as any other path. Beautiful flowers were in bloom around the base of towering trees and the grass wasn’t any less green. The same sturdy trees lined the route, branching out and over, foliage gently arching over park visitors.

So Keith didn’t really have a problem with running their outer path together. He supposed he was only worried as to why Lance was adamant against the main walkway. He wondered if he shouldn’t have mentioned Riverside at all, but when Lance had asked about where Keith ran, he just answered. He had no idea Lance had any problems with the park.

Lance seemed to be fine with their side route. He stopped reacting to Riverside’s main path when he knew they’d be going nowhere near it. He laughed and bantered and teased Keith just the same. Their rivalry thrived and was a great distraction for them both, but Keith couldn’t help thinking about Lance’s worried eyes that first time. They were so sad.

Days of morning runs at Riverside continued to be their thing. Weeks of running together and team training filled their busy lives. They were slowly becoming a little more than just rivals. They were teammates. But that apparently didn’t help make Lance open up about the main path, because two whole months had gone by and Keith still didn’t know what it was that made Lance so wary of running the main route.

Though, it was partially his fault that they never talked about it.

Keith never asked, and Lance never said anything.

They simply continued traversing the side path that quickly became theirs. It was a route that reminded Keith so heavily of Lance that he didn’t even run it if he wasn’t with him. He ran his typical path, the main walkway. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look that route up and down for any sign of something that could possibly have disturbed Lance.

He never found anything.

Apart from that, they had great runs together. Lance was impressively studious in running his legs instead of his mouth. Though, they did like to banter, pushing each other with friendly competition. Keith loved the fire that Lance lit inside him.

He couldn’t deny that running with Lance had been a much more enjoyable experience than he had expected. Because Keith wasn’t one that liked jogging with others, but being around Lance was always a good time. Even the days he ran by himself felt a little darker in comparison.

Because when Lance was with him, he felt light. He felt an energy he didn’t have alone. That was just the magnetism Lance had. It was how Keith felt like he could open up to him. Again… 

  
  


“Come on. Garlic knots? That’s not even a real food.” Keith complained as they walked.

Lance snorted. “Oh, says the guy who would eat a protein shake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” He flailed his hand to somehow accentuate his point.

“I never said it was my favorite food.” Keith defended, giving him a sideways glance.

“Then why is it the only thing you’ve mentioned since I asked the damn question?” Lance countered, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

They quickly looked both ways before crossing a quiet street, still walking in synchronized strides towards Keith’s place.

Keith just huffed. “I just… I’m still thinking.”

“Yeah, nice save.” Lance playfully rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine. Uh, Korean barbeque.” Keith didn’t know if he had a favorite food, but he figured if it were anything, it’d be that. Lance gave him a weird look of approval. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just expecting another shit answer.” He smirked, but there was a soft warmth to it.

Keith’s heart did flips. “You’re such a dick.” He huffed.

“Hey, so now that we know each other’s favorite color, music genre, book, and food, does that mean we’ve reached another level of our rivalry?”

“What, like super rivals?” Keith gave Lance a curious look.

He just shrugged. “Something like that. Maybe like friendly rivals. O-or something…”

Keith nearly choked at how impossibly adorable Lance was. He couldn’t help how the bubbles of happiness threatened to escape him in the form of a laugh. But he held it in, because his  _ friendly  _ rival would just think he was making fun of him. 

“That sounds, uh,  _ progressive. _ For rivals.” He held back his grin.

“W-well, rivalries don’t have to be so black and white. They can be complex and layered and… and I just feel like our rivalry is so much more than a normal one.” Lance swallowed thickly. “Because we’re, like, on the same team, competing with and against each other. So, we’re already atypical.”

“I agree.” Keith gave a smile as Lance looked at him with round eyes. “I mean, you still haven’t beaten me in a 1v1, so it’s understandable if you want this rivalry to transition into a friendship to save you the humiliation of failure.”

Keith couldn’t deny that he was still trying to keep his distance from Lance. Not physically, because that was nearly impossible to do when they ran together three times a week and were on the same team that also trained as a group twice a week. But more so emotionally, and the keyword was  _ trying _ . Because it was entirely too easy talking to Lance. He constantly felt his walls lowering for his old friend without his permission. So he had to be cautious. Focus on being rivals, so he wouldn’t get swept up in everything that was  _ Lance _ .

He still had the Streetball Championships to win.

Lance huffed dramatically. “How dare you. We’ve barely had a chance to 1v1 since I almost beat you!”

“Lance. We’ve had several 1v1s this past  _ week _ .” Keith shook his head. “And since it’s been like two months since I accepted you onto the team, even though you didn’t win,” he added with a teasing smile, “I’d say we’ve had plenty of chances.”

“Listen here.” Lance was getting riled up, and just seeing it made Keith heated in the best way. “We’re going to have a final, winner takes all, 1v1 battle after the Championships. Just you and me.” There was a flame flickering in Lance’s eyes and Keith lived for it.

“Okay, sure. Just you and me. And a basketball. And a hoop.” He added plainly. “And-”

“Alright, asshole.” Lance narrowed his eyes on him. “Just make sure you’re prepared because I’m going to kick your ass once and for all.”

“ _ Once _ is right.” Keith taunted as a small smirk worked its way onto his face.

“Oh, you motherfu-”

Keith couldn’t even hear the rest of Lance’s sentence with how loud the sudden downpour was. Or maybe he had just cut himself off due to the surprise of cold droplets pelting them. The hard rain came out of nowhere, urging them to run the rest of the way to Keith’s place.

It had been less than a block away, thankfully.

But on a less lucky note, they hadn’t come out unencumbered.

Rainwater dripped off their drenched clothes and hair, pooling around their feet as they stood in the lobby of Keith’s building. The cool breath of a droning air conditioner chilled them to the bone, causing their teeth to quietly chatter as they rubbed their wet arms for warmth.

A clash of thunder sounded mere seconds after its flash of lightning.

“Damn, dude.” Lance looked out the foyer window. “It’s  _ pouring _ . When did the forecast mention a fucking thunderstorm?”

Keith scrolled through the weather reports on his phone. “It didn’t this morning.” He pocketed the device as he squeakily walked over to Lance. “It looks like it’s moving quickly. Pretty sure the most recent news said it would last about an hour or so.”

Lance let go of a breath as he turned around to face Keith. “Good thing I don’t have work today.”

Keith swallowed thickly as he watched Lance shiver.

“Yeah.” He breathed, answering absentmindedly.

His brain was already busy with thoughts of inviting Lance upstairs. To his home. It felt like such a personal thing, especially for Keith. But they were becoming closer, and it wasn’t like he was just going to let Lance wait in the cold. Or worse, run home in the rain. There was no way he could let Lance think those were his only options.

His heart thudded heavily in his chest as his mouth formed the words. “Uh, do you want to come up?”

Lance looked up at him, the surprise clear in his hesitant eyes.

It wasn’t a big deal. Keith was just being a good teammate. A friendly rival. He was doing Shiro proud by being nice, and he cared about Lance. Yeah, he used to have a crush on him, but it wasn’t like he was letting his old feelings dictate his actions.

Though he felt like there was something wrong, because his hands started sweating as Lance stared at him. Maybe it was because Lance hadn’t said anything yet. And just waiting for his answer had anxiety surging through him, making Keith wonder if he had said something wrong.

The anticipation clouding his chest was getting hard to breathe through…

Lance swallowed before answering. “A-are you sure?”

What was there to be unsure about? Probably a lot. Homes were intimate. And Keith’s was no exception. It was a piece of himself that he rarely let anyone see.

But his heart warmed at the idea of Lance in his home. He figured if he were to get rained on with anyone and have to invite them to his place, he was glad it was Lance.

So he nodded. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no hate to fancy bartenders! Keith's opinions are his own lol
> 
> art for this chapter: https://ryderwryter.tumblr.com/post/619737381563727872/ryderart-shiro-helps-a-struggling-keith-text
> 
> I hope you're receiving some kind of joy out of this <3  
> Thanks for reading!! :D


	7. the natural attraction of a wet rival - lance's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are doing well and are safe <3 with everything going on in life, I hope my story can provide some kind of escape for a while. Stay safe and thank you for doing your best.

Lance started wondering how the hell he was going to get home. Staying in the lobby of Keith’s apartment building seemed a bit awkward, so maybe he could call a cab. Not that he really wanted to pay for one when his house was barely five minutes away on foot. Running in a thunderstorm wasn’t preferable, but he could still manage it. He could possibly-

“Uh, do you want to come up?” Keith interrupted his thoughts with the offer, looking entirely too enticing with how his wet clothes clung to his porcelain skin.

Lance’s heart nearly stopped in his chest.

Sure, he’d thought about Keith’s place a couple times before. He had a lot of unanswered questions about what kind of guy Keith was. About what kind of things he saved and placed on shelves. If he was organized or haphazard with placing items. If he owned any throw pillows or dying plants.

But while he thought about the mundane things when he was alone, being in front of Keith—when he was looking so tempting—made him think about the dirty things. The deep, dark desires that Lance didn’t even want to acknowledge. But his thoughts were unrelenting in how naughty they were.

Lance really tried to contain them. To contain his attraction. But Keith’s cold, wet lips were almost blue, pleading with Lance to make them red. His shirt clung to his body, clearly showing the swell of his abs and jut of his hip bones, effectively torturing Lance with want. His hands ached to run across the dips and curves of Keith’s body and-

_ No, nope _ , Lance berated himself internally.

With such lewd thoughts, it almost didn’t feel right to accept.

He nearly groaned at himself. His dumb brain was extremely annoying when it got away from him like that. He was usually so good at keeping himself from thinking about how attractive Keith was, but sometimes it was harder to ignore than others.

Lance swallowed thickly, feeling his insides churn with anticipation. “A-are you sure?”

The question was more for himself.

So asking it out loud hadn’t made much sense, because of course Keith was probably sure. He'd been the one who offered in the first place. What did Keith have to be unsure about? It was Lance who was entirely weak for his hot running partner and probably should’ve just declined.

Though, Lance had been really good about focusing on his rivalry with Keith lately. They were improving wonderfully at practice, constantly pushing each other to do better, and their runs were incredibly fruitful in increasing Lance's stamina. He enjoyed having Keith encourage him with the heat in his eyes and bite in his words.

But he also couldn’t help wanting to get closer to him.

And the more he talked to Keith and learned about him, the harder it was to see him as just a rival. He was quickly becoming a loyal teammate. One that Lance was getting closer to considering a friend. Not to mention how much he simply enjoyed Keith’s presence.

“Yeah.” Keith breathed, and Lance’s racing heart fluttered.

Lance still hadn’t been up to Keith’s roof since he first offered, but he couldn’t help thinking that seeing Keith’s apartment was the better of the two options. The dilemma was even accepting Keith’s offer-

“Okay.”

Was that his voice? Did his mouth just open before he could even think about it?

“Uh, great. The elevators aren't working at the moment, so we’ll have to take the stairs.” Keith gave a cute frown. “Sorry.”

Lance’s dumbass  _ had  _ spoken.

He shook his head, acting as if his mind and mouth hadn’t just disconnected. “No problem. My building doesn’t even have an elevator, but I only live on the fourth floor, so it’s not too bad.”

“Oh…” Keith gave Lance an apologetic look as they started climbing the stairs. “I live on the twelfth floor.”

Lance gawked at him. “Holy shit, dude. How long has your elevator been out?”

Keith seemed to think for a moment as they rounded the first platform. “Almost two months now.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so in shape.” Lance huffed, habitually flitting his gaze up and down his teammate.

Keith seemed to keep his gaze glued to the stairs in front of him. “Well, I don’t train to walk an annoying amount of stairs.” He looked over then, locking his indigo eyes with Lance’s ocean blues. “I train to win the Championships.”

“Y-yeah. That’s as good a reason as any.” Lance nodded, breaking away from his intense stare.

All of Lance’s previous thoughts dissipated as something curious came to him. He wondered why Keith always seemed so much more concerned about the Streetball Competition than anyone else. Sure, they all wanted to win, but Keith seemed like he  _ needed  _ it. 

Lance really wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to outright say it. Maybe he could ease him into it. Offer something personal of his own and hope that would prompt Keith to do the same.

“I sure won’t complain if we win the Champs.” Lance started. “Just the feeling of competing is exhilarating. Reminds me of how it felt when I first started playing. When my old high school friend taught me streetball. He was the one who really got me into it.” Lance smiled to himself. “He made me realize the passion I had. How fun it was. It made me want to start competing… And it doesn’t hurt that the rush is extremely addictive.”

He heard Keith huff a soft laugh. “Adrenaline’s a drug.” Lance looked over to catch Keith’s face falling into something more serious. “Competing is thrilling, but the pressure is insane. Especially if you have no choice but to win.”

Lance related to the overwhelming sense of pressure. And he supposed when his own money was involved, he’d also feel like he had no choice but to win. But they had a benefactor. So it wasn’t like Keith was losing anything other than his time, which Lance figured was probably even more valuable than money.

But he was still curious.

“You don’t have a choice?” Lance asked softly, cautiously.

He didn’t want to scare Keith away. Didn’t want him to close up like a clam snapping shut to hide that pearl of deep, personal information. Because all of Keith’s inner thoughts and feelings were that wondrous to Lance. Maybe it was due to the fact that Keith didn’t open up often, so when he did, it felt extremely special. Or maybe Lance just really liked listening to Keith talk.

“I mean, I do. Everyone does. I just don’t let myself have that option, I guess.” Keith shrugged.

“How come?”

“I-I suppose it’s because I need the money. My apartment isn’t much, but it’s not cheap. And I…” Keith slowed down a little and Lance instantly matched his pace. “I, uh, I’m saving for college.”

Lance’s eyes softened as he saw a soft red spreading across Keith’s face. His indigo gaze had been intently focused on the stairs in front of him when Lance turned his eyes on him, but Keith seemed to feel his stare because he glanced over. Nervously.

People their age were already graduating college, entering life-long careers, or working on a higher degree, so his fear of judgement was sadly understandable. It was upsetting that someone as amazing as Keith would ever have to be nervous about seeking higher education because of his age.

The overzealous push of continuous education without the time to save for it or even live life beforehand was daunting. Entering university “late” was so often seen as a negative thing. Something that held a stigma of failure and laziness. But Lance just thought it made Keith’s choice all the more inspiring. He was going to college because  _ he _ wanted to. He wasn’t on anyone else’s clock but his own.

“That’s,” Lance's voice came out incredibly tender. “That’s really great. What do you want to major in?”

Keith looked ahead, returning to their normal pace. “Probably Aeronautics or Engineering. Something like that. I’m not exactly sure yet. But, uh, if that doesn’t work out, I’d just go to a flight school.”

“You want to be a pilot?” Lance raised his brows. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

Keith nodded. “Yeah, whether it be in our atmosphere or outer space.”

“I could see you as an astronaut.” Lance gave a lopsided smile as Keith looked over with soft surprise in his curious indigo eyes. “You just seem determined. And smart. Plus, you look like the type to believe in aliens.” He teased.

Keith’s eyes widened slightly. “How could you not? The universe is so big and ever-expanding.”—he waved his hands around to accentuate his point, which Lance found incredibly endearing—“And even if by some chance there aren’t any other life forms at this point in time, which seems unlikely given how massive the cosmos are, there are supernovae out there releasing hydrogen and helium, contributing to the possibility of new life as we speak-”

“Keith.” Lance nearly laughed at just how cute his rambling side was. He really enjoyed watching the way his eyes lit up with a passion that didn’t involve basketball. “It was a joke.” He felt his smile escaping him.

“Oh…” Keith swallowed. “Sorry.”

“And of course I believe in aliens.” Lance added.

And he was so glad he did because the way Keith looked at him with bright eyes and a small, curling smile just seized Lance’s heart. He looked away before he got too wrapped up in Keith’s gaze. “You… you really know what you want, huh?” He smiled softly to himself as his heart squeezed with bittersweet pangs.

Lance hadn’t thought much farther than getting a job to help support his mom. He never even thought of leaving her or moving out to be on his own like Keith was. He never gave college a second thought, because why waste good money when he didn’t have the grades to get accepted anyway. What would he even major in if he had?

And who would be there for his mom if he ever moved away?

Sure, Luis visited often enough. But that’s only because their mom practically watched his kids every day. And he wasn’t living there, so he had no obligation to pitch in, though he occasionally did. And Marco was already halfway out the door, ready to move in with Veronica across the city. The only ones who were really still with his mom were him and Rachel. It made him sad to think about… 

“Not really.” Keith shrugged. “I’m still all over the place with my life. My future. I didn’t even know I wanted to go to college until a couple years ago. I guess that’s when I started taking the Streetball Competition seriously. So I could save up.”

“Your parents won’t help you?” Lance asked the question innocently, but it seemed to hit a sore spot with Keith.

His steps faltered for a second, but he continued on like nothing had happened. “I, uh, don’t really talk to them much. The only person I’m close to in my family is Shiro.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry-”

“It’s not a big deal. That’s just life.” Keith looked over to give him a reassuring smile.

Why Keith felt the need to reassure Lance was beyond him, but he appreciated the sweet look he was given. It was entirely too soft. Which felt a bit out of place given their taunting nature. Their whole stair-walking bonding moment of deep, personal talk felt out of place, but Lance liked it.

Was it the cover of the storm that allowed for such tender interactions? Or was it always how they were going to act when alone together—without the prospect of competition pushing them to banter and butt heads.

It felt nice, having real, raw moments with Keith.

He wouldn’t mind more.

Keith cleared his throat as he pulled on the stairwell door, holding it open for Lance as he walked through. Lance stepped onto the carpeted floor that muted his wet, squeaking shoes. He almost forgot he was on the twelfth fucking story of an apartment building. God, he needed to find a window.

“Oh, uh, remember when I said my apartment wasn’t cheap?”

Lance nodded as he walked alongside Keith. “Uh huh.”

“Well, it looks like it is.” Keith glanced over at Lance, a bit nervous. “It’s not, um, the best. It’s just really small and not very impressive. Nothing like Allura’s place that’s for sure. I just have a basic studio, so-”

“Keith.” Lance gave a gentle laugh. “I don’t care about the size of your apartment. It’s what’s in here that matters.” He teased, lightly tapping on his chest.

Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance caught the smile on his face before he turned to unlock his door. A stout looking door that they had arrived at before Lance even realized the slowing of their strides. It was an old, wooden one with plated numbers.

_ 1215. _

What a number. An exciting one, because not only did that twelve tell Lance he was really on the twelfth floor, but the whole numeral claimed their destination. It was the number that held the most private parts of Keith’s life behind it. 

His home.

Keith opened the door and stepped inside. But Lance hesitated, wondering if he should be invading his personal space at all. He probably should’ve just said no and ran home, or-

Keith looked back to give him a curious glance. A glance that was entirely innocent with a soft vulnerability peeking through, but thoroughly successful in exciting Lance’s insides. In making his heart speed up with the warmth of the inviting look.

He wasn’t sure how his legs moved without his permission, but they must’ve, because one second he was outside of Keith’s apartment, staring at how beautiful his teammate was, and the next he had crossed the threshold, listening to the door close behind him. But he couldn’t dwell on the oddity for too long, because his eyes swept across Keith’s apartment, taking it in.

There was an immediate feeling of warmth. Which Lance found odd because Keith’s place wasn’t very colorful. It was full of dark greys and blacks with the occasional splash of lighter wood or a red accent. But he figured that maybe it had something to do with how he shivered in his wet clothes from the building’s cold common areas, and Keith’s place was just warm in comparison.

Lance didn’t pay much attention to the kitchenette that laid to his immediate right, harboring a breakfast bar and slate grey tones. His eyes passed that, further into the apartment, to let his gaze dance over the small loveseat that sat in front of the far window. A window that held a dark fire escape behind it with the backdrop of a storming city.

It was shadowy in Keith’s apartment due to the gloomy clouds and sheets of rain outside, but Lance could still see the full bookshelf to the right of the loveseat and coffee table. So many books lined the shelves that the poor wood was bowing from the weight. On top of the mini library was an unfortunate looking plant, sad and wilting. And Lance couldn’t help but smile, because that was the first thing he had actually expected.

Because the rest of Keith’s place was nothing like he had made it out to be. Sure, it was small. It was a studio. But it was in no way unimpressive or basic. And maybe Keith was just used to hanging around Allura’s place if he thought his home wasn’t much. Because Lance was expecting old carpeting, yellowing walls, and a few cockroaches here and there. But that wasn’t it at all.

His inner walls were a light grey, for starters, and the far outer wall was that old brick Lance really liked. His floors were a nice hardwood; bare, save for the welcome mat Lance had walked in on. And it was strange because even though there weren’t many decorations or throw pillows, it felt comfortable.

But maybe that was just how Lance felt when he was with Keith. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily the apartment that gave him that feeling because if it were anyone else’s place, it probably would’ve felt a little cold. Empty.

But it was Keith’s place, and that made it special.

Lance could only see the bottom edge of Keith’s bed since the wall to his left was blocking most of his view. But he could tell that the blanket was a thick comforter—something so comfy that Lance had a feeling it was plop-worthy. He really wanted to walk further to take in the full openness of the studio. To see the part of Keith’s home that was considered to be his bedroom.

His legs seemed to have a mind of their own that day, because his socked feet slowly padded further into Keith’s apartment to move past the inconvenient wall. Still somewhat hesitant like the whole thing was a dream, but determined enough to start the trek anyway.

The room opened up as Lance walked forward, revealing Keith’s fluffy masterpiece of a bed. It was the only thing in his place that truly felt homey. The cuddly covering held the all consuming blanket, confirming that it was definitely plop-worthy. Lance instantly felt the urge to jump on it—he held back, of course. And while there was only one pillow, that didn’t make the bed look any less inviting.

It gave Lance the impression that Keith was someone who craved affection and comfort. That he grew up with a lot of love. Or not enough.

Lance’s heart squeezed at the thought, because Keith had just mentioned he wasn’t close with his parents.

He pulled his gaze away from the bed, catching a glance of a black metal rack with Keith’s hanging clothes on it before he felt a hand gently touch his arm.

That touch sent Lance back down to Earth. To reality. And he realized what he was doing.

Keith had been so quiet and patient in watching Lance look around his apartment that he nearly forgot he was there. But the feeling of his warm hand had Lance spinning to face him with a guilty look.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Oh, no. No, that’s not…” Keith’s brows furrowed for a moment before relaxing. “Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted some clothes to change into?” He asked softly.

Lance blinked with surprise as his heart thudded in his chest. “I, I…”

“Okay, hold on.” Keith just walked over to his dresser and pulled out a few things.

And that's when Lance started freaking out. Because how could Lance react any other way when Keith just offered for him to wear his clothes? It was an insane proposal, and he almost passed out from the way his heart kept trying to leap out of his chest. He was lightheaded with the thought. He couldn’t possibly-

“Here.” Keith handed him some clothes.

Soft, warm, and oh so dry clothes.

And apparently, Lance’s body was on auto-pilot, because he took them. But that was as far as he got. His useless brain was still trying to get a hold of itself, so Lance just looked back up to Keith with slight confusion.

“ _ Uh _ …” He sounded so helpless.

“O-oh, the bathroom is right over there.” Keith pointed past his dresser to a small door. “Towels are in the small closet.”

Lance mechanically walked to the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him before letting go of a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in.

He didn’t know why he was acting so weird. They were just clothes. And it was just Keith’s place. And that thought in and of itself sent Lance’s heart racing again. He looked to the clothes in his hands and quickly set them on the sink counter. 

Those were Keith’s. Clothes that Keith wore on his body. That Keith was letting him borrow.

Then Lance noticed the toothpaste on the counter. Squeezed in the middle. Not entirely neat but definitely not without care. Another one of Lance’s curiosities was checked off his list. God, he needed to get it together!

Lance slapped himself.

His face stung, but it seemed to help. His mind started to clear of the weird limbo state he’d been in. A few steadying breaths later and he was beginning to feel better. Well, good enough, because he finally started taking off his soggy outfit.

It was a relief to be freed from the cold and heavy workout clothes. Lance thanked all the gods that his underwear had barely been touched by the rain. He quickly found a towel in the bathroom’s linen closet, drying himself off before pulling on a pair of Keith’s basketball shorts. He laid his soaked clothes out on the side of the bathtub before finally pulling on the dark hoodie Keith had provided him with. It was loose on his thin frame, but extremely comfortable.

Though, there was one problem with the sweatshirt.

It smelled of detergent but also of  _ Keith _ . 

Intoxicatingly so.

Lance swallowed thickly as he tried breathing through the nerves. Through the feeling of his fluttering heart and flipping stomach. But the breathing only accomplished more of Lance inhaling Keith’s scent. So much so he was almost high off of it.

He knew he couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, so he calmed himself as much as he could before finally exiting. 

And Lance was decently calm. 

He just reminded himself that even though Keith was possibly one of the most attractive humans he’d ever seen, that didn’t mean the thought was mutual. That just because they were alone in Keith’s apartment and Lance was a weak mess didn’t mean anything was going to happen. That Keith wasn’t just a beautiful person. He was Lance’s rival. His teammate. His friend.

That last one really sobered him up, because yeah, Keith  _ was _ his friend. It was a fairly new friendship, but even so. Lance didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up. He wanted to give it a chance and see how it thrived, because he was really starting to like Keith. As a friend, of course…

“Uh, thank you. For the clothes.” Lance gave Keith a small smile as he walked out.

Keith’s eyes seemed to linger on the clothes hanging on Lance’s body, but he soon cleared his throat and looked up. “N-no problem. I’m, uh, going to dry off real quick. Sit wherever you want.” And with that, Keith was gone and Lance was left alone in his bedroom.

He wanted so bad to look around, but Lance was already feeling guilty about his stupid dirty thoughts. And he didn’t want to invade Keith's personal space more than he already was, so he walked over to sit on the leather loveseat.

It faced the kitchen, holding no use for watching TV, seeing as Keith didn’t seem to have one. But there was a laptop on the coffee table that he probably used to stream movies. And with the loveseat’s easy access to the bookshelf and placement right in front of the window, Lance assumed that it was mostly used for reading.

He could imagine Keith stretched out on it with a book in his hand. A thumb holding open the pages as he read in the natural light of the day. Which would be impossible to do currently because of the storm clouds rolling across the sky, releasing harsh rain droplets.

It had been darker before, when Lance first entered Keith’s apartment, but he noticed that Keith had turned on several lamps around the place, softly lighting up the interior with a comfortable glow that didn’t take away from the beauty of the dark storm roiling outside. It was nice. Intimate.  _ Friendly _ .

Keith towelled his hair as he walked out wearing a similar hoodie to Lance’s. One that lifted with the raise of his arms, showing off a sliver of his lower abdomen. It didn’t help that his dark grey sweatpants hung enticingly low on his hips, revealing more of his pale skin.

Lance had to repress his gut reaction to flirt. 

A comment died in his throat, only escaping him in the form of an appreciative exhale. Keith’s indigo eyes flicked to catch Lance’s gaze as he finished drying his hair, tossing the grey towel in a hamper on his way over.

“The clothes fit okay?” Keith asked, picking up a few stray items and returning them to their place, seemingly worried. Lance thought it was funny because his place was already decently clean. And he could care less if Keith had a few things out of place.

He nodded. “Yeah, they’re great. Thanks.”

“I would’ve given you some sweatpants, but your legs are so long I didn’t know if they’d fit.”—it was no secret that Lance had long legs, but Keith’s comment made his heart flutter for some reason—“Are you warm enough? I can get you a blanket.” He pointed behind him, getting ready to go grab one.

He seemed a bit nervous. Eager to keep moving, making use of his hands. But all his walking around was making Lance anxious. So he subtly scooted over on the loveseat, making sure there was enough room for Keith if he decided to finally sit down.

“I-I’m fine. Your place is really nice, by the way.” Lance’s eyes left Keith to give the interior another once over. “I don’t know what you were going on about before.”

“Oh.” He heard Keith clear his throat. “Thanks. I guess I just… uh, comparatively, my place isn’t as nice as Allura’s or Shiro’s, so I didn’t want you to expect some grand apartment and then be disappointed with  _ this _ .”

Lance looked back over to see Keith’s adorably vulnerable features. “I like your place. It’s nice. And way cleaner than my room, that’s for sure.” He gave a reassuring smile.

Keith huffed. “I usually have weights lying around and stuff, but I cleaned up the other day. It doesn't always look like this.” He slowly started making his way over.

Lance felt little butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as Keith walked closer. “Psh, I bet your  _ messy  _ is my  _ clean _ . I can’t even remember the last time I properly made my bed.”

“Can you see your floor at least?” Keith raised an eyebrow and casually sat down, half facing him.

They were both turned toward each other, but Lance was sure they would’ve brushed arms if they had been sitting properly. It was a small loveseat after all.

“I am proud to say that I can. Most of the time.” Lance chuckled. “But, uh, really it’s just mostly a bunch of clutter. I have a lot of knick-knacks.”

Keith looked like he was holding back a smile. “That sounds like you.”

“That I’m messy??”

Keith rolled his eyes. “No. That you have a lot of knick-knacks. I mean, I figured you would. I don’t even think I can imagine your room  _ without  _ a bunch of keepsakes and trinkets.”

Lance couldn’t help his lopsided grin. “You’ve thought of my room?”

Keith was immediately startled—the slightest tint of red dusting his cheeks. “N-no. I mean, yeah, I did  _ now _ . Because you brought it up.”

Lance nearly giggled. “What do you think it looks like?” He leaned in, extremely curious.

Keith just gave Lance a cautious look before taking a breath. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on. Guess!” Lance smiled brightly.

Keith seemed to think for a moment as he lightly chewed on his bottom lip. “I can see you having a few basketballs in your room.”

Lance gave him a look. “No brainer.”

“Okay.” Keith tried again. “Uh, I bet you have a shelf dedicated to your favorite knick-knacks or sentimental items.”

Lance nodded encouragingly with a smile.

Keith blinked. “And… posters?”

“Yeah! What else?”

He took a breath. “I can definitely imagine an overflowing hamper with clothes all around it, because you probably throw them and miss.”

Lance’s smile dropped as he gave Keith a look. “Okay, so even if that is true, you didn’t have to say it.”

Keith huffed a soft laugh. “I disagree. I think it was incredibly important to this ‘world-building’ of your room. What are we even doing anyway?”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I was just curious. I mean, I’ve had a lot of thoughts about your place, but they were more so questions. I don’t think I really thought about what it would look like fully.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about  _ my  _ room?” Keith smirked.

Lance realized his mistake. “Uh, not really. Just like little stuff.” He laughed nervously. “I didn’t know you wouldn’t have a TV! Who doesn’t have a TV?” He blurted, desperately trying to get Keith’s attention away from the fact that Lance openly admitted to thinking about his place.

“Uh, I don’t really need a TV.”

“How do you play video games?”

Keith looked a little confused. “I don’t.”

Lance rubbed his forehead. “Wait, please tell me you’ve at least played  _ a _ video game?”

Keith shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t think I have.”

“So no Zelda? No Mario Kart? No freakin’ COD?” Lance was pretty sure he looked more than a little crazy.

“Is that weird?” Keith seemed to fold into himself and Lance’s furrowed brows instantly dropped.

“Uh, n-no. I just… you should come to my house sometime.” Lance glanced at his hands, then back up to Keith’s eyes. “I have a bunch of games that I’ll probably kick your ass in, but they’re still fun.”

Keith huffed a laugh, relaxing a bit. “Are you trying to find more things to claim me as a rival in?”

Lance smirked. “Oh, I wouldn’t even consider you one. I’m  _ that  _ good.”

“Well, at least you’ll have a chance in beating me at one thing.” Keith teased.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve almost beaten you on several occasions, okay? You should remember our 1v1s. You were there.”

“My bad. It mustn’t’ve been that memorable, because I’m drawing a blank.” Keith smiled in a way that made Lance’s gut heat with a confusing mix of things.

“You’re such a-” Lance’s phone started ringing, and he quickly pulled it out to silence it but saw the caller ID. “Oh, it’s Pidge. Hold on.” He picked up. “Hey-”

“ _ Hey, crazy storm, right? _ ” Lance was about to reply, but Pidge just plowed on through. “ _ Anyway, what are you doing for Independence Day? _ ”

“Indepen-”

“ _ Cause we’re thinking of doing something with the dream team. Drinking. _ ” He could just hear Pidge’s eyebrows quirking.

Lance snorted. “You’re not even old enough.”

“ _ Don’t worry, it’s going to be somewhere lowkey. What do you say? You in? _ ”

“Uh, sure, yeah. Sounds great.” He glanced at Keith. “The  _ whole  _ team?”

“ _ If you’re trying to ask about Keith, yes he’s going. Shiro said he’d be there, so I’m assuming that’s a yes. _ ”

Lance rolled his eyes. “I was just making sur-”

“ _ Yeah, that’s great. Gotta run. Shiro’s texting us the details next week. Okay, bye. _ ” They hung up.

Lance huffed a laugh, looking at his phone. “Fucking Pidgetty Cricket.”

“Pidgetty Cricket?”

Lance looked over to see Keith’s confusion. “It’s my nickname for them on my phone.”

“Isn’t ‘Pidge’ short enough? It’s literally one syllable.”

“I can’t just have Pidge as  _ Pidge  _ in my phone. That’s so boring. Plus, I like to mix it up. It’s probably about time I give them a new nickname.” Lance looked back to his phone, thinking.

He felt Keith lean in slightly. “What’s Pidgetty Cricket even supposed to mean?”

“Do you not know who-” Lance cut himself off, because he’d turned his head to give Keith a weird look, but that had been a tragic mistake.

Keith’s face was way closer than it’d been before. So close he could feel his breath. Neither of them said anything. They just stared into each other’s eyes with slight surprise, listening to the heavy pattering of rain and the occasional boom of thunder.

Keith blinked a couple times and finally started to sit back.

Lance swallowed thickly, resisting the urge to look at his lips. “Uh-”

“Pidgerson.” Keith answered.

“Pidgerson?”

He gave a small nod. “That’s my suggestion. Take it or leave it.” He looked away.

If Lance’s heart wasn’t so caught up on the fact that they had been close enough to kiss, he would’ve laughed at how cute Keith’s reaction was. Which was entirely annoying, because he really needed to stop being so adorable. Lance couldn’t take all the affectionate thoughts.

He could deal with being Keith’s friend, having friendly conversations and talking about personal things, and getting close. But Lance didn’t think he’d survive if he caught  _ feelings  _ for his rival. Not that he wasn’t already feeling something, but that was probably—definitely!—just friendship.

“So, what do you have as my contact name?” Lance tried to open the conversation back up.

Keith faced him again. “Uh, Lance McClain?”

“Are you kidding?” Lance gave him a blank stare. “That’s so boring, dude! Give me a nickname.”

“Like what?” Keith furrowed his brows like just thinking about having to come up with a nickname was difficult.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “That’s for you to decide. Just make it a good one.”

“Well, what do you have me as?” Keith looked up to catch Lance’s surprise.

His stomach lurched at the question. He didn’t think he’d ever be showing Keith his nickname, and since he had just recently changed it from “Mullet” he didn’t think it was safe to show him. The new name was less of a joke and more of a tender moniker. Well, that’s how Lance saw it anyway.

He just shrugged. “Oh, who’s to say?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “It’s something stupid, isn’t it?”

Lance nodded eagerly. “One hundred percent. It’s not even worth looking at.”

“No, that was too easy. Let me see.” Keith put his hand out.

“Not a chance.” Lance held his phone away and Keith’s eyes followed it.

Keith just flicked his hot gaze back to Lance. “Is it something mean? I swear if it’s  _ Mullet  _ I’m making us run five more miles Monday.”

Lance wanted to laugh, because that had been his first name. But he couldn’t tell Keith that. He would probably make Lance run more just for giving him that nickname at all. “It’s not something mean! It’s just… stupid.”

“Fine.” Keith pulled out his phone.

Lance already knew what he was doing. “Don’t you dare change my name to something mean.” He leaned closer to see Keith hit edit on his name. “Hey, I said it had to be a good one.”

“It will be.” Keith smirked, typing in his evil plan.

Lance gasped in a knee-jerk reaction upon reading the new contact name. “I’m NOT a loser!!” Keith laughed next to him as he pouted, feeling that his nickname was entirely uncalled for and hardly justified. “I don’t understand how you think ‘loser’ is a good nickname! You won’t even be able to remember it’s me since I’m so awesome all the time!” Lance’s voice was rising ever so slightly in tone.

“Hey, I’ll change it to something good if I can see mine.” Keith offered, still irritatingly smug.

“Something good? Well, I obviously can’t trust that because you have terrible taste in nicknames!” Lance took a moment to glare at the contact name, then looked back to Keith. “But go ahead. Tell me what you’ll change it to.”

“I’ll change it back to Lance McClain.”

“Hell no! I refuse to be ‘Lance McClain’ on anything but legal documents. What’s fun about keeping your name the same?”

Keith seemed to pause for a moment before he gave a curious look. “So you’re going to take your wife’s last name if you get married?”

A jolt ran through Lance at Keith’s question. It took him a bit off guard.

He just cleared his throat. “Uh, possibly… Or, ya know, my husband’s last name. Whatever.” He shrugged, suddenly finding Keith’s dying plant fascinating. “Anyway, I’ve realized that you shouldn’t be in charge of giving anyone nicknames since you so clearly abuse your power.” Lance turned back to glare at Keith, who just looked back at him with a humored smile dancing across his lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not creative like you.”

Lance blinked. “You think I’m creative?”

“I-I mean yeah. You’re always talking about a million different ways to improve our training or help with team stuff. And I’m pretty sure you’ve rambled off thirty different invention ideas since I’ve met you. And you make up new names for people.” Keith gestured to Lance’s phone. “I’d say you’re pretty creative.”

Lance looked at him for a moment then sighed dramatically. “Fine. You win.” He was always weak for compliments. Especially from those who he admired or was close to, and Keith was nearly both of those things.

“I win?”

Lance scrolled to Keith’s contact and tapped on it. “Yes, you win.” He handed Keith his phone, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.

Keith blinked at the screen a couple times, taking in the name. And although there was a deafening silence as they sat there, Lance couldn’t help but feel relieved. Because at least they weren’t talking about husbands anymore.

Keith sat back as he held onto Lance’s phone, still staring at the moniker when he finally spoke up. “I was really expecting ‘rival’ or ‘mullet,’ but this name is definitely worse.” He grimaced.

“What? How?!” Lance had specifically picked a good one that reminded him of just how cute and awkward Keith was. 

“You’re clearly making fun of me!” Keith turned off Lance’s screen and tossed him his phone back.

“I’m not, I swear!” Lance desperately tried to convey his sincerity. 

He thought ‘Keef McSmiles’ was a good name for his tough, emo friend who liked to use smiley faces more often than Lance ever thought he was capable of. And even though it was funny, it was also an affectionate nickname. He really liked that Keith sent smiles. It made his texts as sweet as they were hilarious. And though Lance couldn’t deny that he liked teasing Keith, he would never, ever tease him about his smiley faces.

He didn’t want them to go away.

So maybe showing Keith had been a mistake.

“I-I really like your smiley faces! That’s why it’s in your cute nickname. I promise I’m not making fun of you, Keith. Please don’t stop sending them.” Lance pleaded, worried he’d just ended the wondrous reign of the Keith smiley face.

Keith crossed his arms as he stared at Lance, but he wasn’t frowning as deeply anymore.

“It’s just a friendly nickname.” Lance promised. “You saw Pidge’s. They’re just dumb, and maybe I’m an idiot but-”

“You don’t want me to stop sending them?”

Lance went silent to engross himself in Keith’s adorable look of guarded curiosity. “Of course not.” He breathed and gave a reassuring smile. “I think they’re great.”

Keith sighed as he looked away, arms unfolding. “Fine.”

Lance wanted to laugh, but he figured that wouldn’t do the situation any good. Even if it was because Keith was so cute. But he couldn’t help the tender look on his own face and how his stupid mouth just released whatever was on his heart. 

“I like you.” Wait.  _ WAIT! _ “I-I like hanging out with you!” Lance corrected before Keith had a chance to misinterpret his first statement. But somehow, it still felt like a weird thing to say.

Keith seemed shocked either way as his attention snapped back to Lance.

Lance tried to save face. “Y-you just, uh, make me smile.”  _ Terrible. _ “And I like being around you.”  _ Worse.  _ “Our rivalry is fun, and you make me a better player.” Was he trying to show how much he liked him? “I… I just mean… I like hanging out with you.” He circled back to the statement he had just tried—and failed—to seem more casual than he’d said it.

Keith’s eyes were round with gentle amazement, and his words were soft when they escaped him. “I like hanging out with you too… I, uh, don’t have a lot of friends.”

Lance’s heart melted along with his previous worry about being a complete dumbass. “Well, we’re definitely friends, so you can add me to your list.” The reply jumped off his tongue, eager to let Keith know that Lance considered them to be close enough for such a thing.

How was Keith so good at hitting Lance straight in the heart? He felt so weak for him. It was impossible for Lance not to become his friend. And even though Lance had felt their friendship growing over the past couple of weeks, he hadn’t been eager to really claim they were friends. Which was probably because of his incessant need to be taken seriously as Keith’s rival. But that didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.

Lance was just happy he was Keith’s friend.

The apartment was quiet when Lance got home. Empty of his family members since they were probably working or at school. He missed the biweekly family breakfast with everyone due to the storm, but Lance didn’t mind too much. He didn’t regret his time with Keith.

They had actually talked for hours after the rain had passed, just enjoying each other’s company. It was nice. Almost scary with how natural and  _ right  _ it felt. Plus, Lance got to look out Keith’s window from twelve stories up, so it was definitely worth it.

Lance walked through his empty apartment, still wearing Keith’s clothes while holding a plastic bag full of his own wet ones. Just the feeling of the soft fabric brushing against his skin made him absentmindedly duck his head to breathe in. To smell that lingering scent of Keith on his clothes.

His heart fluttered at how comforting it was.

And it would’ve been creepy if he hadn’t been by himself. But Lance was alone, and couldn’t help the weird sensation inside of him. Though, it wasn’t really odd per se. It was just a  _ fact _ : Keith eased Lance. Had since he met him.

Keith had an incredible magnetism that was easy to claim as a distraction but was really a source of attention itself. Keith was clearly a center of focus for Lance, calming him of outside disturbances. And if Lance got too caught up in it, was that really so bad?

Even so, he still had to focus. He had to do his best because he wanted to win the Championships. And Keith  _ needed  _ to win. He was saving for college, after all. He had a future he was striving for. And Lance wanted to help in any way that he could, because seeing Keith’s smile… man, it was something straight out of a song.

It was beautiful.

And poetic because Keith seemed to like coming off as some aloof, intense guy. But he was actually really sweet. Lance could tell he was just a sensitive guy with a lot of love to give, hiding behind a hardened exterior.

Just knowing that Keith was slowly opening up to him more and more made Lance incredibly soft. There were all these feelings that swirled in his chest. Keith just always made Lance’s heart feel heavy. But not in a bad way. It was in a way that felt so warm and fuzzy and  _ full _ that it had to carry some weight to it…

Lance walked into his room and saw a new letter on his desk with that same scribbly writing. His thoughts of Keith took their place on the back burner of his mind as he concentrated on the white envelope.

He took a breath as he opened it, wondering what it would say.

After his freakout with the first one, he realized the letter didn’t mean anything. That it was just junk mail. But after a couple of weeks, he got another one. And another. And now Lance was opening his fifth letter.

He never understood who they were from or why he was getting them, but after realizing they weren’t from his dad, he relaxed. He actually liked them for some reason. He kept the little cards of encouragement tucked in his desk drawer to read when he felt like he needed a little pick me up.

The newest one made his heart warm.

**_Your effort counts._ **

Lance smiled, then pulled out his other letters to read through them.

**_Don’t fuss about the muss._ **

**_You’re more worthy than you know._ **

**_Give yourself a tick to breathe._ **

**_Believe in yourself._ **

Some of them were a little strange, but they were comforting in a way. 

Familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you listen to the playlist, part of the song Kissaphobic is actually sung by Jeremey Shada, Lance's voice actor! 
> 
> (and regarding the playlist, this will be my last chapter with songs. I have a link to another playlist of songs that I considered for the story on my tumblr post: https://ryderwryter.tumblr.com/post/620725004144967680/chapter-seven-is-here-i-do-apologize-though )
> 
> thank you for reading!! <3


	8. ninety-nine problems and he just had to be one - lance's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's 8k+ words! (almost 9k rly) my longest chapter ever wooo boi!!
> 
> btw: this chapter is in LANCE'S POV, then the next two chapters will be in keith's pov to make it even <3  
>   
> warning: anxiety attack

“No, no, no.” Lance shook his head, watching the disaster of a practice play out before him. As the alternate that round, he couldn’t help but point out the mistakes being made right in front of him. “Pidge, you’re too short to-”

“I’m fucking fine!” They yelled.

Lance rolled his eyes before continuing. “I’m just saying that if you’re trying to guard a tall ass player, you should probably move those feet a little quicker. And try to freak your opponent out. You’re good at that.”—Pidge seemed to straighten up at that, happy with the comment—“And Hunk, buddy, you missed your screen. If Shiro’s out there trying to drive the ball, he needs that defense. Just like if I was out there, I’d need that. I’m nothing without you.”

“You got it.” Hunk nodded, but Lance could tell they were all tired.

Keith sauntered over to pat Hunk on the shoulder. “It’s true. Lance really is nothing without you.” He teased, earning himself a playful glare from Lance, which only made his smile widen.

Despite his glare, Lance really enjoyed Keith’s jokes. Especially since he seemed to be getting more comfortable with Hunk and Pidge. It was nice seeing them get along so well. Lance was definitely closer to Keith than his friends were, probably because they saw each other more often. Being running partners on top of everything else gave them extra time to bond. It also helped that Lance felt so comfortable with him.

Keith was still his rival, but he was also his friend.

His  _ friendly  _ rival.

“I’m just trying to help, considering that we only have one more practice until our first bracket game Friday.” Lance jutted his hip out, placing his hand there—not missing how Keith’s gaze flitted away, to anywhere but him.

“Don’t be afraid to tell us how we’re lacking, too.” Matt spoke up as he walked over, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

Shiro nodded in agreement. “Yeah. You do it on occasion, but it’s obvious you’re more comfortable with handing out criticism to Hunk and Pidge because they were your team for a long time. But we’re also part of your team now, so don’t be afraid to say what you see. You make good calls, Lance.” Shiro gave him a smile, and Lance felt a bit of pride swell in his chest.

“Alright, yeah.” Lance felt a smile curling onto his face. He put his hands on his hips as he turned to look at Keith. “If that’s the case, then Keith needs to learn the pass plays I gave him.”

Keith huffed, shaking his head. “You know I looked them over.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t  _ learn  _ them, now did you.” Lance challenged as he stepped closer.

Lance reveled in the annoyed look Keith gave him. 

After getting to know Keith better, he was incredibly easy to read. His pointed looks never held the sharpness they were supposed to. Keith was all bark and no bite, but it was purposeful. His expressions of irritation were pushed onto his features in the attempt to keep Lance on his toes. To tease him.

Lance already showed everything on his face, so if anyone were to pay attention—even slightly—it wouldn’t be hard to see how much the two of them enjoyed their back and forth.

It was one of the things Lance really liked about their friendship.

“Keith, learn the plays.” Shiro gave his brother a look, and Keith just rolled his eyes. “And Lance, would you be willing to write them down for the team, so we can make official plays out of them?”

Lance nodded. “Sure. I only came up with a couple, but I can think of some others.”

Matt walked over to rest his arm on Lance’s shoulder as he grinned at him. “That’d be great ‘cause I’d love to get in on some of the action.” 

“Alright, yeah.” He felt himself return the smile. “I might have a few ideas that would benefit your position.”

He hadn’t really openly discussed his plays, but now he wondered if he should’ve mentioned them sooner. They probably would’ve been using them the whole time, because his teammates seemed to actually value his opinion. They listened to him and really heard what he said. 

They saw his significance even if Lance himself couldn’t.

It was a nice change. Because while Hunk and Pidge were good at seeing how beneficial Lance was, the previous players on their Tier 1 team two years ago didn’t. They hated being advised—even in the slightest ways—and most certainly didn’t think Lance made good calls, so Voltron made Lance feel like he was actually helping.

And Voltron was helping him too.

He felt himself improving and learning more than he thought was possible. And although he owed a lot of his growth to Keith, it wasn’t  _ just  _ him. It was Shiro and Matt and Allura and having a squad that felt so compatible. It was like they were meant to be a team.

Like they always had been.

Practices went great and were extremely beneficial. Their strategic meetings were useful, and the planning for different versions of their team roster was going exceedingly well. They got increasingly comfortable playing as a team over the past couple of months, putting them all in tune with each other’s movements.

Lance had never experienced a full team that worked so well together.

It helped that they’d been laughing and bonding together. Creating inside jokes and sharing memes. Becoming closer friends with each passing practice. 

It was a dream come true to have such a skilled team with an excellent manager and a phenomenal practice court. Not to mention being able to compete solely for the thrill of it, which Lance would never get over.

But he wouldn’t let the lowered stakes cause him to slack off. He wanted to win, and he wanted to win for his teammates. For Keith. He needed it, and Lance didn’t ever want to be the thing that held him back. 

Keith was going places.

“Okay, let’s run through it once more.” Shiro called, and everyone took their places as Lance sat back down on the bench with Allura. She didn’t often have the time to observe practice, but she visited when she was able. 

“Shiro’s right.” She commented, her attention still on the clipboard in front of her.

Lance swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“You have good ideas. I believe you came up with two new adaptations to our existing plays just today.” Allura smiled at him.

Lance looked down as he felt his own mouth turning up at the edges. “I-I’m alright. Just trying to do my best. Call what I see.” He glanced back to see her gently tapping her pen against her chin—in thought.

“You know… I think my uncle would really like you. Tell me, do you like your current job?” She arched one of her perfect brows.

“U-uh,” Lance looked to the court where Hunk played a beautiful screen. “Nice job, Hunky boy!” He shouted before answering Allura. “I, uh… I love working with Hunk.” He shrugged.

“Have you ever heard of sports analytics?”

“Uh, I-I imagine it’s just analyzing sports and determining new techniques or something.”

Allura’s face quirked into a smile. “Yes, that’s certainly a part of it. Although there is much more to it. Things such as taking the data already acquired and using that to construct new potentials and various outcomes for games and players. As well as possibly creating new ways to advance the sports themselves with innovative ideas. It can even access ways to help individual athletes play to their strengths and improve upon their weaknesses.” She set down her clipboard. “Creative individuals, such as yourself, are incredible assets.”

Lance never thought of himself as useful.

He was just there.

But Allura’s words made his chest flutter with hope. It sure sounded interesting, but would Lance actually be good enough to do such an important job? Would he even be able to come up with ideas or analyze things correctly? He only had a high school diploma. He didn’t think that’d be enough. And if Allura’s uncle was anything like her, he’d feel quite intimidated. She was so smart and successful, and Lance was… 

“I see potential in you.” Her face was soft despite the thorough seriousness in her eyes. “I understand that you haven’t sought higher education, but my uncle’s company has a wonderful university reimbursement program. He believes in the investing of his employees. It’s an ideology he shared with my father, who was actually his business partner before he passed.”

Lance’s brows pinched up in a sad frown. “Allura, I’m-”

She held up a hand. “Lance.” She smiled softly. “No more apologies are needed. I know you didn’t know about my father and his naming of the team. It’s understandable. I hadn’t informed you of the team’s origin and my mission to keep it alive, not only for my father but for myself. It’s okay. Don’t feel like you have to keep saying you are sorry every time I bring him up.”

Lance gave a solemn nod.

He would always feel bad about it though. He had just been so nonchalant about dissing her dead father’s team name. And then he straight up said he wanted it changed. He internally groaned at himself.

“Should I schedule a time for you to meet him? Perhaps in my home where you both may be more comfortable, or on a team outing.” Allura offered, picking her clipboard back up.

Lance mulled it over for a moment. “I, uh, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask him some questions. He may not even think I’m good but-”

“Lance.” She gave him a stern look. “I want to remind you how much you’ve improved here within just the past couple of months, how you’re always bringing new ideas to the table, and how you are an essential part of this team. Any team. Including one at my uncle’s company. I believe he would be lucky to have you. Your youth provides a fresh outlook, and your personal interest in basketball is essential in keeping the work grounded and relevant to actual problems. You have so many qualities backing up your evident talent for analysis.”

_ Evident talent? _

How could that have been the case when Lance himself hadn’t even seen it?

“Thanks, Allura. I-I’ll think about it.”

She smiled, seemingly satisfied. “Please do. It can be, at the very least, a chance to job-shadow my uncle. And then you can really determine whether you think you’d like it or not.”

He nodded.

It would be a good opportunity. And it was just a meeting. Just a casual meeting with the head of a company… 

No pressure.

It wasn’t like Lance was expected to be some amazing analyst when he couldn’t even remember his high school statistics class. Surely Allura knew that Lance wasn’t what she hoped he was—what Lance wished he was. She couldn’t possibly expect Lance to meet her uncle with the smart wit and analytical prowess that her relative no doubt possessed.

Right?

A small wave of nausea rolled through Lance as his brain thought of all the ways he’d inevitably fuck up if he met Allura’s uncle. But he could also prove how good he was, and Lance tried to focus on that. 

It didn’t help as much as he wanted, but regardless, he still wanted to think it over. Meeting Allura’s uncle was a big deal so he wanted to accept her offer with a clear mindset. 

His brain needed time to fully process it.

Maybe that was why he still didn’t know what the stupid feelings in his chest were. The feelings that swirled inside him when he thought about Keith. Because he only ever  _ felt  _ them, refusing to think into them further. One thing he knew for sure was that there was definitely something going on inside him. Something that grew and throbbed and  _ ached  _ with every new interaction he had with Keith.

The closer he got to him, the stronger his sensations became.

It was easy to just write them off as attraction because that had been an instant thing for Lance. He’d been attracted to Keith since he first saw him. But his feelings were becoming a little more complicated than that.

Then there was the  _ heat.  _

The heat Lance previously thought was just a competitive drive against a wonderfully antagonizing rival. But Keith was now his friend and it was  _ still  _ there. Impossibly more so.

Deep down, he probably knew what it was. Knew it was something that would change things. And things were going good. With Keith. With the team. He didn’t want to focus on the weird aching in his chest or the sweet bubbling in his gut or-

“Hey, Lance!” Keith yelled from across the court.

Lance’s head instinctively snapped up as his stomach tingled.

His friend held a basketball against his hip as he looked at him expectantly. Lance’s dumb heart fluttered, but he didn't let it show. He just stood up from his place on the bench and rested his hands on his hips. “Are you trying to challenge me right now?”

“Might as well.” Keith shrugged. “Practice is over if you couldn’t tell.”

He’d said it sarcastically but Lance really hadn’t noticed.

“Wait,” Lance looked around as he walked toward Keith. “Where did everyone go? They didn’t even say goodbye!” He couldn’t believe his friends just left him and Keith alone like that. Not that it was unusual for Keith and Lance to stay after practice for their occasional 1v1s, but to not even say goodbye was strange.

Keith huffed a laugh. “Are you being serious right now?” He arched a curious brow. “You waved to them as they left. Are you okay?” His amusement morphed into slight worry.

Lance’s heart couldn’t take how caring he was, so he just did what he knew would help distract him. “I’m doing great. Considering I’m about to kick your ass.” He swiped the basketball out from under Keith’s relaxed arm.

Keith shook his head, a heated smile working its way onto his face as they set up. “Hm, sounds like your definition of ‘kicking ass’ is different than mine because you sure like to threaten that a lot for a continuous loser.” He caught the ball Lance strongly chest passed to him.

Keith’s words pumped a satisfying heat through his veins.

_ Yeah, that feels better _ , Lance thought, enjoying the comfort of being Keith’s  _ rival. _

He rolled his eyes as he waited for Keith to check the ball back to him. “Would a loser get an invitation to meet Allura’s uncle??” 

It sounded better in his head. Because he actually had context, and Keith probably had no idea who her uncle was or what he did-

“The analytics genius with Altea Sports?” Keith’s motion on the ball stopped as his smirk dropped for genuine surprise. “That’s amazing, Lance!” An unusually bright smile spread across his face. It was so cute Lance wanted to gouge his eyeballs out. “Was it because Allura noticed how creative you are? It’s gotta be how creative you are. You’re so smart.”

Keith was killing him.

“U-uh,” Lance could feel his palms sweating and his heart picking up. “She just mentioned job-shadowing him or something.” Lance looked down to kick at the court floor, almost forgetting about their game. But he refocused and held his hands up. “Are you gonna pass the ball or cradle it for the rest of the day?”

His friend rolled his eyes, but threw the basketball back to him, starting their 1v1. “That’s a big deal, man. Are you excited?” Keith asked as he guarded Lance.

Lance just dribbled the ball, trying to focus as he shuffled along the hardwood. “I, I…”

A pressure started building in his chest—an uncomfortable one.

Lance recognized it well. 

His brain was starting to psych himself out with the nerves of it. Meeting Allura’s uncle, someone who was apparently a  _ genius _ , was an intimidating concept. Just the thought of possibly embarrassing Allura or disappointing her uncle had him stressed. His chest clenched with his own feeling of inferiority as his anxious brain eagerly thought of new ways Lance would fail.

His stance faltered for a moment, accidentally allowing an opportunity for Keith to swipe the ball. But he didn’t. He didn’t take the stupid fucking ball, and that immediately caused a bubbling displeasure to overwhelm Lance’s insides.

Why the hell was Keith holding back? Was he going easy on him? Was he even happy for Lance or was he just pretending? Did Keith think Lance was going to mess it up somehow? Just proving himself to be the dumb kid his dad left behind?

Lance felt himself grimace.

“Can you just play right?” Lance shoulder checked him as he pushed through and ran to score a layup. The ball was shoved against the backboard but it fell through the net despite Lance’s severity.

It’d been too easy to score.

Lance turned around to see that Keith hadn’t even chased him. He just stood there, staring at him with round eyes. Not mad or upset, just concerned—like he cared. Like Lance’s weird outburst and hurt expressions were somehow a sign of something.

And fuck. There it was again. That feeling. That warmth inside him, threatening to overtake his feelings of distress and make him all fuzzy. But that wasn’t what Lance wanted to feel. He didn’t want that weird stirring inside him.

Lance was bitter.

What the hell happened to Keith’s indifference? Just because they were friends didn’t mean he had to go and be nice all the damn time. Wasn’t he supposed to be some asshole who didn’t care?!

… 

No.

Keith was never that. Had never been that. Would never be that. 

Even if he tried to be sometimes, it just wasn't him.

Lance glared at the hardwood as he clenched his free hand, feeling his nails bite into his palm. He could feel his scowl turning sad. It was getting hard to breathe with the way his chest tightened and clouded with the heavy anxiety. He could feel the prick of tears in his eyes, threatening to well up and fall.

What the fuck was he doing?

He was the one being the asshole. Keith was just being a good friend and Lance was just pushing his own unwanted emotions and thoughts onto him. Why the hell was Lance projecting anyway? Sure, he didn’t want to deal with his shit but Keith would never think that way. 

He didn’t even know about Lance’s dad.

And it wasn’t like Lance should even care about anything regarding that man anyway. He had come to terms with that shit a long time ago. He was over it. He knew his shortcomings and failures had nothing to do with his dad. Or why he left. He knew that and yet…

Lance bit his tongue, feeling a ball of emotion in his throat. The back of his nose stung from repressing the tears but he couldn’t seem to care. He just ducked his head and focused on calming himself so he wouldn’t cry in front of Keith.

That would be way too embarrassing.

He needed to calm down. He was being an idiot, and his brain was being impossibly cruel to him. One thought of his dad and he was practically falling apart. Hopefully it didn’t show, but Lance wasn’t hard to read. At least his head was angled down to partially obscure his features.

But it wasn’t enough.

Two warm arms slowly but firmly wrapped around Lance, pulling him into a hug. And Lance couldn’t help it anymore. The tears just tumbled out. They didn’t even travel down his cheeks. The heavy droplets just fell from his waterline to Keith’s shoulder. His friend's embrace brought him right up against him, letting the droplets wetten his poor shirt.

But Keith didn’t seem to mind. 

Even as Lance started sniffling away and the tears fell faster, he didn’t say a word. His arms just kept their hold on Lance as his face was tucked in the crook of his neck, breathing steadily against Lance’s skin.

Lance sniffled. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Hey.” Keith squeezed him gently, silently letting him know that his apology was unnecessary. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” His sad frown was visible as he pulled back, gently grasping Lance’s arms as he searched his eyes. “Are you okay? You don’t usually… it didn’t seem like you.”

Lance looked away as the remainder of his tears fell down his cheeks, unable to keep Keith’s intense gaze. He took a breath, blinking the wetness from his eyes. “I, uh… I-I was just being stupid, I’m sorry-”

Keith shook his head. “Are you okay?” He asked again.

Lance shrugged lightly, trying not to disturb Keith’s hold on him. It was comforting.

He didn’t even care that he couldn’t wipe the tears from his cheeks. Just feeling Keith touch him was satisfying enough. Lance couldn’t even remember if they had ever hugged before. Or really touched other than the occasional fist bump or playful shove—or lingering shoulder pat.

It was nice.

Lance sniffled and Keith finally let go of his arms, giving him the opportunity to wipe his gross snot and tears away. But before he had the chance, Keith was already gently swiping his thumb across Lance’s cheek, effectively stopping his heart.

All Lance could do was watch Keith’s dark lashes lower as his soft indigo eyes trained on Lance’s tear streams. Keith’s face—smooth and beautiful to a point where Lance had to physically hold himself back from reaching out for it—creased with worry. His upturned brows were far too caring for Lance’s heart to take. And the way his plush lips were slightly parted in concern was not only surprisingly gentle but impossibly enticing.

Lance didn’t dare move. Or breathe. He just stood there, still as a statue, hoping he wouldn’t disturb Keith’s efforts.

Apparently remaining eerily still, and somewhat tense, was a hint that something was wrong. Because Keith seemed to realize what he was doing and took a quick step back as he cleared his throat. “Uh, is there anything I can do?” He looked around the empty court, avoiding Lance’s round eyes and flushed cheeks.

Lance blinked, slowly coming back to reality where Keith had been the most… man, he didn’t know. Tender? The word didn’t seem  _ enough _ , but it was the best he could come up with… Keith had been the most  _ tender  _ Lance had ever seen him. It was weird. But good? Like, he wanted it to happen again? And all the time? And-

Lance shook his head to focus on Keith’s question.

“I-I’m fine.” He spoke, catching Keith’s attention once again. “I… I was just in my head, worrying about being a disappointment.” Lance huffed a humorless laugh. “I’m just me, after all.”

Keith looked at him like he had just said the weirdest thing he ever heard.

“Exactly.” Keith gave him a serious look, brows furrowed to match the intensity in his eyes. “You’re  _ you _ , Lance. That’s not your weakness. It’s what sets you apart. The Lance I know, that I-I’ve come to know, is smart and driven and creative. You’re practically already doing the shit Altea Sports does, and that’s without all their useful data. I think you’d do fucking great there.”

Lance’s sad gaze softened to something he didn’t want to put much thought into—it was much too similar to  _ affection _ . 

“Thanks, Keith…” Lance breathed as a smile slipped onto his face.

Maybe he  _ would _ be great at Altea Sports.

It was frustrating that his overthinking, anxiety-riddled brain held him back from things just because it made him hyperfixate on all of the negatives. But maybe he could fight it. Keith’s words seemed to help. Maybe he could just focus on that. On fighting it with logic and meditation. While he couldn’t get rid of his anxiety completely, he could try to tame it. Because yeah, Lance  _ was  _ pretty good at making up new plays and he did call out things that others didn’t tend to see.

He was  _ Lance _ .

And that was pretty damn great.

Lance didn’t want to delve into how sweet Keith was. No, he didn’t want to think about how supportive he was. Or how the incessant urge inside Lance begged him to make contact with Keith’s skin at any opportunity possible. It was stupid to think there was something underlying their soft gazes, right? 

Yeah, they were just good teammates.

Exactly.

They were just good teammates walking side by side into Garrison Stadium, hearts pumping with the excitement of their first bracket game. Nothing more, nothing less. But that lie to himself was starting to get old, and Lance was beginning to actually think about all the ways Keith truly affected him.

Lance realized his feelings weren’t purely attraction… 

“Dude! This stadium gets better every time I see it!” Hunk came up to the other side of Lance, lightly bumping his shoulder with his own. “They updated the food court this time.”

“I know! It’s awesome.” Lance laughed, looking around at the beautiful state of the art facilities—happy Hunk was there to distract him from his inner thoughts. “We’re some lucky motherfu-”

“Lance.” Pidge warned from behind him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled, then continued. “I can’t wait to see our jerseys!” Lance bounced around with excitement, purposefully jabbing a playful arm at Keith who was walking in stride with him. “Apparently they’re completely black, but I’m sure they’re still cool.” He teased, catching Keith’s small smile even though he rolled his eyes.

And there went Lance’s heart, tingling with all the feelings he had for his friend.

“Lance, I’m not-” Allura gave him a weird look, but Keith spoke up before she could finish the statement.

“Hey, locker room’s over there.” Keith pointed to an upcoming doorway.

Lance rushed off excitedly with his teammates, eager to change into an actual team uniform. He passed the locker room threshold before anyone else but Pidge was a close second with Matt and Hunk making a great effort for third. Allura, Shiro, and Keith sure took their time filing in after.

Shiro was carrying the beautiful cardboard box that held their jerseys and sat it down on one of the benches where they all had gathered, having found a decently empty section of the busy locker room. Other teams were getting ready as well, waiting for their turn that day, but Lance paid them no mind. He was excited for Voltron’s first game and his first official team uniform.

“Alright, Voltron.” Allura smiled at them all. “There have been many wonderful changes this year. New teammates. A new name. And now, by suggestion of Keith, new jerseys!” She pulled out a purple basketball jersey with colorful lettering and light numbers.

Lance just stared, taken aback, because he specifically remembered his conversation with Keith about their team color being black. Keith changed it? When? Why? And  _ he  _ supposedly suggested it even though he’d been so adamant against it? Was it because of what Lance said? How he joked about how boring plain black was?

God, Lance’s heart throbbed with warmth, and maybe the color change didn’t even have anything to do with him, but he couldn’t help the affection he felt. The affection he was starting to admit to himself.

“It’s a nice change from the usual black!” Matt took one from the box.

“Purple  _ is  _ my favorite color.” Shiro smiled as he started handing out the rest.

Pidge observed the jersey with awe, matching Hunk’s appreciative gaze.

“These are super neat! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a jersey quite like this.” Hunk smiled at Allura before turning to Keith. “You suggested this?”

Lance’s faraway gaze quickly snapped to Keith, keen to see his reaction.

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, staring off to the side. “Uh, yeah. We’ve had black for a while now, so I, uh, just thought this would better suit us… better suit our new team.” He shrugged. 

Keith looked over to give Lance a curious glance, but Lance had already been staring.

Their gazes locked.

An intense blooming warmth flowed through Lance, and god, was this what it was like acknowledging his feelings? He felt weak and gooey, and all too happy to be caught in Keith’s gaze. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t felt this way before, but just realizing how he felt… it made the sensations all the more impactful. 

But just as quickly as their wonderful moment had developed, it disappeared, with Keith’s eyes quick to flit away.

Lance just continued staring at him, his heart turning to complete mush.

Keith had listened to him.

And even though Lance had been joking around, Keith took his opinion into consideration. He went out of his way to inform Allura of the change and come up with a new design. And Lance didn’t know how he held his feelings back from himself before. It was so obvious that he  _ liked _ Keith. How could he not?

He was wonderful… 

“Here, Lance.” Shiro handed him his personalized jersey.

He took it with a smile, gingerly running his fingers over the lettering of  _ McClain _ on the back. Yeah, he could get used to this. Just seeing the beautiful embroidery form his own last name was such an awe-inspiring moment. It made the whole thing so real.

Not that it hadn’t been before, but now there was something Lance could hold in his hands. Something tangible that solidified the fact that he was on an actual team. That he was about to play Tier 1 again. That he was going to compete with the best of the best.

With that thought, Lance started getting a little nervous. He knew Voltron was good. But so was everyone else and-

“Lance.” He heard Keith call gently.

He was already dressed in the new uniform when Lance looked up, which made him wonder… just how long had he been staring at his jersey?

Keith sat next to him. “You alright?”

Lance looked back down to the jersey in his hands as he heard his other teammates talking joyfully a few steps away. “Y-yeah.” He nodded. “Just a little, uh, nervous.”

“You’ll do great.” Keith lightly bumped his shoulder to Lance’s. “The only competition you can’t beat is me.” He joked.

Lance rolled his eyes, then glanced over to witness Keith’s smile. 

Lance was immediately struck by the beauty of it. He didn’t know how Keith’s smiles kept getting better and better. They were few and far between in the beginning, but over the months Keith seemed to relax, letting his emotions show as he became more comfortable. Meaning Lance was blessed with all kinds of beautiful expressions of Keith’s. But his favorite had to be Keith’s sweet smile.

But it wasn’t the time for that.

“I’ll beat you.” Lance promised. “Don’t forget about our winner-takes-all 1v1 after the Champs.”

“Never.” Keith’s smirk softened as he met Lance’s eyes, gazing into them with such intensity that Lance couldn’t help the heat enveloping him.

It made his skin buzz with excitement.

Okay, yeah. He could do this. He would go out there and play to the best of his abilities. He had to. For his team. For Keith.

For his Mamá.

He would tell her about Voltron when they won their bracket. Well,  _ if  _ they won their bracket. Wait, no,  _ when _ was right because they  _ would  _ win. Just like Keith gave himself no other option but to win, Lance would do the same.

And as much as he wanted to get swept up in the emotions he was feeling for Keith, he had a game to focus on. To win.

It wasn’t too long before their team was being called and they were out on the court, warming up.

Lance still felt the nervous butterflies tickling his insides but he just looked to Keith and they turned to a burning heat. A driving force. An encouragement. And god damn, having Keith as his teammate—his friend—was so beneficial.

But as Lance stared, he noticed something odd about Keith’s jersey. The name on the back was strange.

_ Kogane. _

Had that been Shiro’s last name too? He couldn’t remember. But there was something weirdly familiar about it. Something that itched at Lance-

A warm hand squeezed Lance’s shoulder and for a moment he thought it was Hunk, but as he looked back he saw Shiro giving him a reassuring smile.

“I can’t wait to see your plays on an official court.”

“I hope they do us some good.” Lance relaxed in Shiro’s hold.

“Oh, they surely will.” Allura had walked up to them. “You guys will kick their asses!”

Lance couldn’t hide the surprise on his features. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Allura cuss before.

“Fuck yeah!” Lance laughed his approval before jogging back toward the court.

A thrilling buzz of excitement rushed through him as he went to throw his last warmup shot. His sneakered feet pushed off the hardwood as his arms moved with practiced movements, shooting the basketball from the three point line and making it in with nothing but net.

_ Oh, yeah. _

Lance felt ready.

The warmup timer buzzed, directing Voltron and their competition, The Olkari, to make their way back to their respective benches to have a quick pregame huddle.

“Alright, team.” Allura addressed them as they crowded around her. “You all have been working wonderfully hard for this, and your improvement has not gone unnoticed. I am amazed at the team you have become in such a short period of time. Let’s go out there and show them who the real team that will be moving on in the competition is!”

Lance almost laughed at how her phrasing made the statement lose some of its impact, but he just cheered alongside his team, appreciative that Allura was their manager and that she was there for them at all.

“Voltron!” They shouted as their stacked hands raised to the sky.

Matt took his seat on the bench as the rest of Voltron took their place behind Shiro—their chosen jump baller since he was the tallest. Lance’s eyes couldn’t help but sweep over the back of his jersey.

_ Shirogane. _

Was that his last name? If so, then why did Keith’s jersey say Kogane? Weren’t they brothers? And why was Lance just now noticing that oddity? Sure, they didn’t talk about last names often. Or family really—it was sort of a sore spot for Keith—but it was weird that Keith’s name was different from Shiro’s. Maybe one was a middle name. To help keep people from mixing them up?

Hell if Lance knew. He didn’t even know why he was so invested. 

Or maybe he did. Maybe it was because  _ Kogane _ seemed awfully familiar.

But it wasn’t the time.

Lance took a breath and focused on the game.

One of the designated referees walked up, holding the basketball that would begin and end Voltron’s first game in the Streetball Competition. The ref stood between Shiro and The Olkari’s jump baller, number 12. Who wasn’t as tall as Shiro, but looked buff enough to handle him. 

It made Lance’s gut churn with unease.

He held his breath as he waited, watching the look number 12 and Shiro exchanged. It was one of friendly determination that would no doubt morph into something more severe once the game started.

Lance prepared himself. Made sure he was ready for the ball to fly in his direction. Or any direction where he’d have to take off and grab it before their competitors. It helped that Keith was to his left. Just the thought helped calm his buzzing nerves.

His heart still nearly stopped when the ref blew his whistle, tossing the basketball of fate into the air. But Shiro was a man who forged his own destiny. He proved that by making good on his strong legs, jumping slightly higher than the other guy and knocking the ball to Voltron’s side.

Keith was fast to swipe it up and run towards the opposing basket as the rest of them chased after him to provide some defense. Their quick reactions helped Keith make the layup without interference, scoring Voltron their first two points of the game.

Lance couldn’t help his small smile as he heard Allura and Matt cheer from the sideline. 

Excitement started to flare inside him. He was so ready to compete. To show his worth. Even his body was eager to start pumping adrenaline through him. He just had to earn it.

And boy did he.

Shot after shot, Lance scored. The synthetic leather consistently left his fingers in a satisfying arc. The kind that told Lance he would make it in even before the basketball fell through the hoop.

As great as The Olkari were, Voltron was better.

It was intoxicating: winning. But so was hearing the chorus of praise coming from his team and the sparse crowd in the stands. Feeling the high of competing in Tier 1 again. Scoring time after time with his own two hands.

And those things weren’t even the best part.

No, the best part was watching Keith wordlessly signal for Lance’s plays, showing him that his ideas were worth using. And with every confident chest pass Keith threw to him, Lance proved himself. He took the look of unwavering faith in Keith’s eyes to steady himself. To keep his stance precise and his shooting accurate. He even used it to ground himself when he was getting too cocky for his own good. Because Keith believed in him, so he  _ wouldn’t  _ disappoint.

But with every look of affirmation to Keith’s indigo eyes, a different hunger overtook him. 

And Lance didn’t even notice.

Because his desperation to continue proving himself didn’t change. Only the reason. He started out the match excited to help his team. To help them win. To show how useful he could be. But the feelings he had for Keith—the ones he so recently realized—were interfering. They transitioned his reason into a desire.

An unfortunate desire that led to his downfall.

It was subtle at first, something so innocent and casual that it was difficult to discern. Because how could looking at Keith ever be a bad thing? Earning his smirks of approval was exhilarating, and receiving his appreciation was motivating.

But it became something that blinded him with want.

Lance became ball hungry. Eager to score, and in return, receive that thrilling look of Keith’s. And because he was still helping Voltron win by scoring, Lance didn’t notice that his feelings were messing up his priorities. Making him covet Keith’s reaction more than winning the game. More than cooperating with his team.

It wasn’t until Lance’s tunnel vision hindered him to the point of only seeing the ball in his hands and the hoop did he get a sense that something was wrong. And yet, in that moment, he was still compelled to score himself. To earn that look from Keith. So he couldn’t see Shiro with his hands up or Pidge making themselves open for Lance to pass. He didn’t even notice Hunk doing his best to block the guys defending him or hear Keith yell at him to pass.

No, he could only see the ball he was dribbling and the guy in front of him. Who was giving him such a hard time that Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to make the shot. But he needed to. He wanted his reward. So he threw it. Toward the basket in a grossly incompetent and selfish move. Resulting in The Olkari to steal it and run back to score themselves.

After that, Lance not only stopped receiving Keith’s smiles, but the ball as well.

Keith’s eyes would pass over him, but look away just as quick.

He could tell his team wasn’t happy with him. But they weren’t going to switch him out when there was only a minute left on the clock before halftime. So Lance played his support role the best he could as he tried to understand how he fucked up so bad.

It wasn’t like him to put himself before the team.

Lance still couldn’t understand himself by the time Keith confronted him during halftime.

“Lance, what were you doing?” He frowned. “Why didn’t you pass?”

_ Shit.  _

Did he really not pass? He didn’t mean to. He remembered having the ball and seeing the basket. Just the basket… He, maybe, faintly recalled hearing his team shout at him. Before he caused their ball to get intercepted. How had he messed up like that? What was wrong with him?

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why… I-I won’t do it again.” Lance promised, genuinely surprised with himself.

The look on Keith’s face made Lance’s heart ache.

Oh.

_ Oh, no. _

Lance had fucked up and he knew why.

His feelings for Keith somehow…  _ dammit. _ Lance was finally realizing his emotions for Keith, and for some reason, let them overtake him. They caused his head to become clouded and his judgement to falter.

“I understand it was getting a little heated at the end there. Fast decisions don’t always turn out great, so don’t forget you have a team to help out.” Keith took a breath and looked away. “But, uh, you should take a break this third quarter-”

“What? No way! I’m good, Keith. I can do this!” Lance urged.

Keith looked back to him, eyes a little sad. 

He knew how desperate Lance was feeling. How much he wanted to make up for his mistake. Keith understood. But he said his words despite it.

“I mean, um, you’re… you’re being benched, Lance. Just for a little bit so you can rest and-”

Lance’s eyes widened as his chest tightened. “Keith,  _ please. _ ”

Keith winced at Lance’s tone. “I… I’m sorry. It wasn’t my ruling.” He looked back to Allura, who stood by the benches with Shiro.

Lance didn’t wait for Keith to speak up again. He just walked past him to plead with her. “Allura, please. I-I didn’t mean to. I just…” Well, Lance wasn’t about to explain what really made him fuck up. He didn’t even exactly understand it.

“I’m sorry, Lance, but it looks as though you need a break.” She looked more concerned than upset. “You were doing so wonderfully out there, then you just, well, you weren’t acting like yourself.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. But I’m honestly fine! I made a mistake and it won’t happen again.”

Shiro stepped in, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Lance. We understand and we’re not holding it against you. But you still need a break. You’ve been playing nonstop.”

No,  _ no _ . 

He could help.

Lance was supposed to be showing how worthy he was.

He looked up to his taller friend with wide eyes, feeling a swirl of messy emotions cloud his chest. And even though Shiro said it for Lance’s wellbeing, he couldn’t help but feel like he was on a time out because he let his team down.

“But I… I’m _sorry._ _Fuck._ I didn’t mean to-”

“Lance, it’s okay. Really.” Allura noticed how worried Lance was becoming. “Just breathe. It’s okay, Lance.” She reassured him as they both sat him down on the bench.

Lance hadn’t even realized he was hyperventilating until Keith rushed over.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Lance heard the worry in Keith’s voice.

“He just started… I think he’s having an… attack…”

It was hard to focus on Allura’s words. 

Was that Allura? Maybe it was Shiro. Lance didn’t know. The tightening in his chest demanded all of his attention. It pressured his lungs, making it impossibly hard to catch a breath. The air felt so thin. And Lance felt so small.

He silently gasped for the air that was being withheld from him.

There was a moment where air finally filled Lance’s lungs but it hadn’t been on purpose. He’d sucked in a breath from surprise when he felt warm hands taking his own. He looked up to see Keith kneeling in front of him. 

His intense stare was full of more worry than Lance’s had been. It was almost funny. But Lance also wanted to mad at himself. For liking Keith so much. For allowing himself to become so clouded. For letting Keith race to help him, which just made his heart ache more. But he couldn’t be upset. Not when Keith didn’t seem to even care about how insanely concerned he looked.

He just squeezed Lance’s hands before guiding him to breathe in and out.

“Lance. In.” He took a deep breath, then released it. “Out.”

Lance followed Keith’s instructions as the rest of the world was lost to him. He didn’t hear Hunk and Pidge running over, or see Shiro take them away to give him space. He didn’t notice that Allura stepped back but still watched over them carefully. He only felt the warmth of Keith’s hands as he helped Lance calm his breathing.

“Good.” Keith nodded, continuing to help him. “Now, what do the stray cats on your roof look like?”

“W-wha-”

“Just answer it.” Keith breathed with him, staring straight into his eyes from a foot away.

Lance followed Keith’s inhaling and exhaling as he answered. “Uh, there’s a-a brown tabby. And a… a spotted white and orange one. A few calicos. A crazy amount of, uh, fuck… what are they called? Uh, tonk-tonkinese? Yeah. B-but my favorite is, uh, this one stubborn black kitten.” Lance huffed a laugh, not even realizing that his breathing was returning to normal. “Kinda reminds me of you actually.” He matched Keith’s soft gaze, forgetting that they weren’t the only two people in the world.

Keith seemed to be holding back a smirk. “Oh, yeah? Does he also want to pursue a possible degree in aeronautics? Or is it just because he’s cute?”

Lance couldn’t fight the smile slipping onto his face, but he did his best to counter the warmth in his heart by rolling his eyes. “I’m pretty sure all cats are cute.”

Keith breathed a laugh. “Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m cute?” He sounded entirely teasing—and even a little self-deprecatory—but Lance couldn’t help the way his heart jolted.

His cheeks hurt with how hard he was trying to keep himself from grinning. “Well, I don’t know if I’d say that-”

“Lance!” Pidge returned with the rest of the team. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lance quickly became aware of his regular breathing and just how close Keith was to him. Keith was quick to stand up and get out of the way, seeming to have noticed as well. Their moment was over and Lance had an unfortunate feeling that Keith’s unusual flirting was just a way to help distract him.

Pidge and Hunk quickly took Keith’s previous spot to crowd Lance with worry.

Lance sighed, but was luckily in control of himself again. “I’m fine, guys. Just a little freakout in my stupid brain.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend’s brain like that!” Hunk pouted, pulling Lance close. “I love your beautiful brain, buddy. I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s no big deal. I’m okay. I’ll sit out this quarter and take some time to clear my head.” He gave a reassuring smile.

It was probably for the best. Lance realized Shiro wasn’t benching him to punish him. He and Allura were benching him because they were worried about him. So Lance would listen and get his thoughts cleared. Though, it’d be difficult as hell to ignore what just happened between him and Keith.

_ Ignore Keith’s cuteness _ , Lance commanded himself in the hopes it would actually work.

It didn’t.

He couldn’t even ignore it when Voltron started playing again and Lance was left on the bench, but he did his best to concentrate on the game while appreciating Keith at the same time. Maybe realizing his feelings had been a tragic mistake, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. Except try his best to keep his head in the game. 

Over halfway through the quarter Allura tapped his shoulder to tag him in.

Lance refocused to turn his attention to her. “I can go back in? But the third quarter isn’t even over.”

“Oh, do you need more time on the bench?” She raised a brow.

“N-no. I’m good! I can go in.” Lance lit up.

He was ready to be a team player again. He wouldn’t get caught up in Keith, no matter how much he wanted to. He would focus on the game and help his team win. 

Lance was so determined to stay a team player.

So much so that he sacrificed shooting with his own two hands. He made it his mission to make the best passes he could. They were effective and clever. Whoever he passed to scored. He passed even when he could’ve easily made the basket, but he just didn’t want to mess up again.

By the end of the fourth quarter, Voltron was fifteen points ahead with thirty seconds on the clock. Lance was proud of his team, and he could feel their appreciative looks at him too.

They were going to win.

They were going to move on.

And they were going to keep winning.

The Olkari were on the offense, but Lance knew they couldn’t catch up in time. It was just a matter of letting the game play out now. But Keith seemed to have a different idea.

He intercepted the ball. But didn’t drive it down the court. No, he chest passed it to Lance with a smirk. “Show me what you got.”

His compelling demand echoed the first words he’d ever said to Lance.

Lance knew there was only one way to respond. “You’re on, Mullet.” He smirked, then raced down the court with the best mix of adrenaline and heat and fuzzy warmth all buzzing across his skin and infecting his heart with a surprising amount of affection.

Lance felt like that was Keith telling him it was okay for him to score too.

His heart warmed.

He sped toward the opposite basket, preparing himself for more than just a simple layup. His feet pushed off the ground and jumped for the hoop with intense ambition. He slammed the basketball through the hoop with his own two hands as the final buzzer went off, ending Voltron’s first game in a win.

A big smile spread across his face as he heard the cheering from the stands. From Pidge and Allura on the sidelines. From the rest of his team, who all whooped and hollered in fits of joyous laughter. 

Lance turned to face them, immediately having to outstretch his arms to quickly accept the running Hunk coming at him. He embraced his friend, laughing with him as everyone else made their way over.

He looked over to watch his team migrating toward them, but there was one set of eyes that completely overtook him. Lance wished he would’ve caught that indigo gaze sooner because it was so full of heat—the kind that took over Lance’s entire body. Hot tingles ran through him and prickled over his skin, and he couldn’t seem to look away.

Heated looks weren’t new to them, but this one was different.  _ More.  _ And Lance didn’t know whether it was from the high of their win or his own feelings surfacing. Either way, the gaze had something else to it that Lance couldn’t quite place. And he was entirely captivated by it.

Maybe it was how Keith looked like he was brimming with so much pride and affection. Was it just his imagination or was Keith really looking at him like that? Lance hadn’t done anything particularly amazing. They were going to win no matter what. But there Keith was, looking at him like he was so intensely proud.

But as much as Lance was thrilled with it, he had to look away. He didn’t want to get caught up again, which felt like such an easy thing to do since Lance started realizing his feelings for Keith.

Unfortunately, even looking away didn’t help him. 

Lance couldn’t forget Keith’s intense gaze. 

Even as he walked into his bedroom later that evening, those indigo eyes were still in his head. The way he had looked at him after they won… it reminded him of a quote from a novel. But Lance couldn’t remember which one. 

He spent the rest of his night, nerves buzzing with happiness, scouring his personal library for the right book. A smile spread across his face when he finally found it.

Lance didn’t hesitate in opening it up, beginning to re-read the book in its entirety to search for that one, singular quote that reminded him of Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! <3


	9. social cues - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been stuck with writer's block for sooo long, but i finally finished chapter 11 yesterday (after what, like, a month??) and have a more solidified plan for the final upcoming chapters! Idk how fast I'll be able to write them out, so I may have to put on hiatus until I finish, but I'll let you know in A/Ns and on my tumblr <3 thank you so much for sticking with me and these dumb bois
> 
> (also just want to mention Lance gets hit on by a sleazeball, and there's vague talk about unwanted advances)

Even as Keith wiped down counter tops and filled orders, he couldn’t forget the way Lance had looked at him after their win. After his dunk… Keith couldn’t help the pride swelling in his own chest for his old friend. Seeing Lance do something he wanted to accomplish for so long was always exciting to see. And being caught in a returning affectionate gaze was mesmerizing.

The memory almost distracted him from the fact that he’d been such an idiot during halftime. When he practically flirted with Lance. Yeah, Keith fucking Kogane _flirting._ It was a weird concept even to him. 

Surely he only asked that question to tease Lance. To try and do whatever he could to avert Lance’s attention from his overwhelming thoughts. So it wasn’t like he was _really_ trying to flirt. Right? Right. He wasn’t even sure how. Hell, Keith even said it in a way that conveyed his disbelief before Lance even answered.

But maybe a part of him was curious.

Did Lance think he was cute? Attractive? And maybe Keith should’ve read the way Lance looked at him if he wanted the answer, but he’d been too distracted by how striking his soft eyes were to delve into what they meant.

Lance’s reactions were just captivating. 

The way he looked at their new team jerseys… 

Keith smiled to himself as he recalled the way Lance’s eyes lit up as his sweet mouth hung open with shock. The way he had just stared at the jersey, like it was the best present he’d gotten in a long time, was entirely worth it.

He wasn’t sure what it meant, but Lance’s approval was riveting.

Keith never imagined he would’ve changed the team color. But he was always weak for Lance. And it was a nice change of pace. When he’d first mentioned it to Allura, she was completely thrilled to help come up with a new design.

But Keith’s unusual behavior had to be hard for others to ignore.

Especially for Shiro because he was starting to let on that he noticed how attentive Keith was to Lance. Because of course Shiro would know how his brother felt. He was exceptionally knowledgeable in Keith’s nonverbal communication.

When they’d lagged behind the rest of the team as they walked to the locker rooms, Shiro had mentioned he was happy Keith found someone he was so passionate about. Which completely embarrassed Keith but he figured it was stupid to think he’d been sly about it in any way. Everything was clear on his face to those who paid attention. He just couldn’t help his feelings. Being soft for Lance wasn’t really a choice. He just _was._

“Hey, look alive, Kogane!” A coworker bumped into him, forcing Keith to push away his thoughts of Lance and focus on his task. 

He finished wiping the back counter as the world around him returned, reminding him it was a day of celebration with their loud singing and chatter.

Keith hated working holidays.

It wasn’t because he had somewhere better to be, or some grand plans to get to. They were just another day for Keith, because family was what made holidays special, and Keith was usually alone. Shiro was typically busy with his—their—parents, so he couldn’t ask him to hang out. Because Shiro would easily choose him, and it was Keith’s choice to alienate himself from his adoptive parents, so to take their actual son away from them didn’t feel right.

So, no. That wasn’t it.

The thing Keith hated about working holidays was the sheer amount of people. He didn’t mind the extra throw up in the bathrooms or the stickier floors. He didn’t complain about the influx of orders he had to fill. He didn’t even care that his boss gave him all the shitty jobs everyone else refused to do. Because at least those jobs didn’t involve interacting with people.

He really just hated the amount of patrons.

They all looked to get drunk and yell at him for their miserably wonderful lives. Or worse, they would try to start a conversation with him. There was something about holidays that made people want to talk. That made them want to be listened to. But Keith wasn’t their guy. He was their less-than-enthused bartender just trying to do his job. But for some reason, holidays loosened their lips more than the alcohol and pushed them to share every intimate detail about their lives.

Other than that, Keith didn’t mind bartending too much. Someone asked for a drink, he made the drink. It was only when they kept talking after the glass was in their hand did Keith have a problem with it. Talking to people was hard enough to do when there wasn’t alcohol involved.

The best part about his job was that he usually had other people working with him. People that actually enjoyed talking to the customers. So much so that they tended to slack off while they were conversing, but that’s when Keith really thrived. He would just let them take the orders while he filled them. Most of his coworkers liked it that way. It was a pretty symbiotic relationship. But during holidays, they were all too busy to slack off, and so Keith was left to handle the whole process himself.

He pulled on one of the tap handles, holding a pint glass under it as he watched it fill. He was in the middle of filling a second one when he heard a familiar voice. It was distant and faded through the noise, but he could’ve sworn he recognized it.

Keith turned to face the wooden bar, looking around the dimly lit and crowded interior of Marmora’s Blade. But he didn’t see anyone he recognized, other than the good ole regulars in their typical spots nearly covered with the throngs of people.

He dropped off the lager, quickly taking the patron’s money and moving on to another order. But as he was opening a couple bottles of a chocolate stout he heard the voice again. It was closer now. Clearer. He could actually make out what it was saying.

“I’m pretty sure _you’re_ too short to send memes!”

Was that Pidge’s voice? Why was Keith imagining their voice? 

_Oh, no._

He was hallucinating Lance’s laughter too. He didn’t think he was _that_ far gone for him.

Keith turned back to the bar and came face to face with his brother.

“Shiro? What are you-”

“Surprise!” Pidge and Matt jumped out, doing jazz hands on either side of Shiro, eerily in sync.

Hunk smiled at him from behind Shiro. “Hey, Keith! I didn’t know you worked here.”

“I guess when Shiro said you’d be here, he really meant it.” Pidge plopped down on the stool to the right.

Shiro just smiled brightly at him. “When do you get off?”

“Uh,” Keith glanced at his watch. “In an hour.”

“Great, we’ll get started on pregaming then.” Pidge gave an impish smirk.

“How is it pregaming if we’re not even doing anything after this?” A familiar, light-hearted tone reached Keith’s ears. He could hear the smile in it and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. As soon as he saw Lance’s face peek out from behind Hunk, his whole body warmed.

Pidge scrunched up their nose. “Uh, we _are_ doing something after this. Fireworks.”

Lance rolled his eyes as he leaned against the bar next to Pidge. “Who pregames for fireworks?” He laughed, then looked up to Keith with his incredibly blue eyes. “Hi, Keith.” He gave a lopsided smile.

“Hi.” Keith breathed stupidly.

He suddenly felt very self-conscious in what he was wearing. He hadn’t planned on being seen by people he knew, so he just threw on a plain black tee. Which probably wasn’t anything to be embarrassed by other than the fact that it was tight. Tight enough to earn better tips. Tight enough to show off his muscular arms. So maybe he didn’t look bad.

He was definitely just feeling nervous.

“Uh, one second.” He uttered and quickly delivered the bottles of beer he’d been holding, then went back to stand in front of Shiro once again. “What are you guys doing here?”

It was already so crowded he didn’t know how they managed to get in. Not that he was against it. He couldn’t seem to mind a few more customers. Especially the ones in front of him.

“What does it look like? We came to party with you, dude!” Matt all but hollered.

“Just remember, fireworks start in like three hours so we need to be good and drunk by then. I heard it makes watching even better.” Pidge quirked their eyebrows.

“I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of cannabis.” Matt informed. “But I think that also depends on the strain and how it effects you.”

“Strain?” Hunk tilted his head quizzically.

“How about some drinks!” Matt just smiled. “I’ll have whatever stout is on tap.”

“Pint of Eddy for me.” Shiro added.

Keith then looked at Hunk, waiting for his order.

“Do you have any craft beers?”

“A couple.” Keith nodded.

“Then I’ll take your best IPA.” Hunk gave an appreciative smile.

“Alright.” Keith looked to Pidge and Lance.

Pidge furrowed their brows. “Are you gonna remember all that?”

Keith looked at them unamused. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

It wasn’t his first day.

“Okay, then Lance and I will have some shots!” They eagerly sat up to wrap an arm around Lance’s shoulders.

“I thought you were just kidding before.” Lance gave them a look.

“Isn’t this your first time drinking?” Keith raised a brow at Pidge. “We don’t have any mixed drinks, but there’s some sweeter ciders you might like.”

Pidge shook their head. “No way, Ricardo. I would like some of your finest shots, please.”

_Ricardo?_

“Uh…” Keith would’ve looked to Matt if Pidge was any younger, but he figured they were old enough to decide what they wanted. Even if that meant they’d learn the hard way that straight liquor was not the best first drink choice. “Okay.”

He would just give them the lowest proof they had.

“You guys stay behind and grab our drinks.” Pidge looked to Lance and Shiro. “Now let’s go grab a table!” They grabbed Hunk and Matt, dragging them to find a booth.

“So you want a shot as well?” Keith looked at Lance, double checking.

“Uh, yeah. There’s no way I’m letting Pidge get wasted alone.” He huffed a laugh.

Keith just shook his head. “If you were a good friend you’d talk them out of getting shots altogether.” He teased.

“Hey, I’m a good friend! Pidge just can’t be talked out of anything. Once they put their mind to it, it’s happening.” Lance defended.

Keith turned to start making their drinks with practiced efficiency as he answered. “They are pretty stubborn. But I like that about Pidge.” The three pint glasses filled at the same time as Keith quickly flipped two shot glasses onto the bar, filling them with his choice of liqueur.

“They were very adamant about it on the ride over.” Shiro backed Lance up. “All we can do is watch over them and make sure they don’t drink too much.”

Keith was done pouring the shots right before he needed to stop the taps, swiftly shutting them off and skillfully handing the three beers to Shiro. His brother gave him a wink as he walked off without Lance.

Keith quickly slid the shots to Lance so he could catch up with Shiro, but Lance didn’t move from his spot. “Do you want something else?”

“Yeah.” Lance smirked. “When you get off, you should take shots with us.”

Keith just looked around the crowded bar and quickly poured one more shot. For himself, because fuck it. All his coworkers did it—were currently doing it—and it was Keith’s first time even wanting to so he didn’t care. He didn’t even think the owner cared, as long as he did his job.

He gave Lance a look and downed it, hiding just how much he hated the taste.

“Hell yeah, Keith!” Lance downed his shot as well then slid his glass back to him. “Don’t tell Pidge I started without them.”

Keith just smiled as he filled Lance’s shot glass again. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“See you in an hour, Mr. Bartender.” Lance gave him one last smile—a smile that sent sickening tingles to his heart—before leaving with his drinks.

Keith finished up his shift feeling strangely light.

  
  


“Hey! Here comes the muscle man himself!” Matt yelled as Keith walked up, somehow managing to be louder than the already noisy bar.

“You just get off?” Shiro scooted over, causing the rest of the team to follow his movements to make more space for Keith by Lance.

“Yeah.” Keith sat down with a tray full of new drinks for everyone, including himself. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been adding everything to your tab.” He smirked at his brother.

Shiro sighed through a smile. “I guess I deserve that.”

And he did, because he brought their teammates to Keith’s workplace without even telling him. He was pretty sure that wasn’t what they agreed on. He wasn’t really mad, though. It’d been nice seeing everyone, and even better that he was able to hangout with people he cared about on a holiday.

It was a nice change.

Pidge was quick to grab and distribute drinks, and even more eager in downing another shot. “This stuff is disgusting, but I’m already feeling all warm and tingly.”

“You’re half the size of a Ritz cracker, of course it's already working.” Matt laughed.

“Plus your tolerance is nonexistent, so remember: only one shot per hour.” Hunk added.

Lance shook his head. “Better yet, just stop after the third one. Hangovers are not your friend. You’re already scary enough in the morning.”

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Come ooon, guys. I’m barely even feeling it!”

“You just said you were feeling tingly.” Matt raised a brow.

They huffed, spreading their arms, effectively whacking Hunk and Matt as they shook their arms frivolously. “I am!”

“Okay, maybe two shots is enough.” Hunk gently moved their arm.

Keith just smiled to himself and downed his second shot. He didn’t drink often, probably twice a year, so his tolerance was low as well. But at least he had more body mass than Pidge so he wouldn’t get tipsy as fast.

He felt Lance shift beside him to grab another shot for himself. Their legs brushed against each other under the table, and Keith felt his heart jump at the contact. He patiently waited for Lance to move his leg, but his friend left it there, pressed flush against his own. Keith hadn’t been the one to move before, so he didn’t see why he’d move now.

He just took another shot.

A fuzzy heat spread throughout his chest, warming sickly in his heart. It was a heat that fogged up his lungs and burned his esophagus. Different from the sensation he felt with Lance—completely unrelated to the way his old friend was pressed against him. Yeah, it was definitely the alcohol. Keith was starting to feel that good ole trace of intoxication after his third shot.

Nothing crazy yet, just a slight thrumming across his nerves. He didn’t have nearly enough alcohol to disturb his brain functions or motor skills yet. It was just a little reminder that _yes, Keith_ had _ingested alcohol_.

He leaned over to Lance, maybe a little too close but whatever. “Hey, uh, what does Ricardo mean?”

Lance smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. “Are you still wondering why Pidge called you that?” He gave him a mischievously curious look.

They were close, but the booth was pretty crowded so it couldn’t be helped.

Keith shrugged. “I just have no idea how I’m supposed to react to getting called that.”

Lance’s gaze flicked down to Keith’s tight shirt, then back up again to meet his eyes. “Take it as a compliment.” His smile seemed to turn flirtatious.

Keith sat back and sighed, unable to look at Lance that close for too long. “Alright. A compliment.” He echoed, feeling like Lance was just messing with him.

At least they were normal around each other. Like their look of mutual affection hadn’t even happened. Like Keith’s feelings weren’t so obviously overflowing and pouring out of him involuntarily with every look and touch and action around Lance.

“-and to celebrate our great win, I say more shots!” Pidge lifted off their seat to move, but the table stopped them from going anywhere. Seeing as they were stuck in the middle of the booth.

Keith just shook his head. “I’ll go grab us another round.” He offered, parting from Lance’s warmth to stand.

It only made sense for him to do it. He’d been sitting on the outside of their rounded booth anyway. He was the one with the most freedom apart from Shiro, who sat at the other opening. But Keith didn’t mind servicing his teammates. 

His friends.

He squeezed through sweaty bodies and gathered groups to finally reach the insanely crowded counter. It was full of joyful drunks and eager sobers, both ready for the consumption of alcohol. Luckily, he knew the best places to get spotted. It also helped that his coworkers actually recognized him, and were willing to take his order before others.

Just as he captured the attention of Kolivan, his favorite manager, a warm hand rested on his shoulder. Keith instantly turned to catch blue eyes. 

“Lance?” He raised his voice slightly to be heard through the noise.

Lance leaned in to talk with ease. “I came to help you.” He explained, then faced the bar as he slid his hand down Keith’s arm tantalizingly slow before resting it on the counter in front of them.

Okay, so maybe they weren’t back to ‘normal.’

Keith opened his mouth to… well, probably just gawk at how touchy Lance had just been, but his manager came up and smiled at him. “Hey, Keith. What can I get my hardest worker?”

He would have blushed at the compliment if his face wasn’t already on fire.

His skin still buzzed with electricity from Lance’s touch, but he attempted to talk through the fluttering in his stomach. “U-uh, a pint of Guinness, an Edmund Fitzgerald, and a Pliny on Shiro’s tab.”

“And five shots.” Lance added.

“Of?” Kolivan raised his eyebrows at Keith’s friend.

“The diluted one.” Keith motioned with his eyes and Kolivan laughed.

“Spilling our secrets are we?” He propped an arm on the bar as he leaned across to pat Keith’s shoulder then pinch his cheek before retreating. “I’ll have it ready for you in just a second.”

Keith looked to Lance, not about to discuss the fact that Kolivan just treated him like a little kid, but rather why Lance had ordered so many shots. “Five? Pidge is going to hate you in the morning.”

Lance just shrugged. “Only one is for them. The other four are for us.” He grinned, waggling his brows.

Keith tried to sigh, but it came out as more of a soft laugh. “You are going to kill me.”

“What? Are you a lightweight or something?” Lance quirked his brows as he leaned in. Intoxicatingly close. It sent his heart racing and skin buzzing more than alcohol ever could.

He could feel Lance’s breath on his face as he stared at the flecks of light grey in his ocean eyes. There was a wonderful heat emanating from Lance’s body. And Keith could smell his deodorant. Or was that cologne? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted to bury his face in the crook of Lance’s neck and breathe in.

Keith swallowed thickly. “I just don’t drink very often, so my tolerance isn’t the best.” He spoke low, confident that their proximity would allow for his words to reach Lance’s ears even with all the commotion around them.

“So you didn’t become a bartender because you’re an alcoholic?” Lance teased.

Keith looked away with a smile. “No, I… I don’t know. I like it here.” He shrugged. “Kolivan gave me a job when I left my, uh, parent’s house.” He looked back to make sure Lance wasn’t getting uncomfortable. He looked curious, but Keith saw the slight concern in his eyes. “I-I wasn’t old enough to work the bar, so I was the busboy for a while. But when I turned twenty one I was promoted. That’s it.” He shrugged, trying to make it quick and painless lest Lance start pitying him.

Lance didn’t get the opportunity to respond, because Kolivan slid him two glasses of beer, then left to go fill the third one.

“You should get those to the table.” Keith suggested before Lance could comment on what he’d said.

“I, uh, I’ll be right back then.” Lance gave him a soft look.

It didn’t look like pity, but Keith felt like it was. Maybe he was just feeling sorry for himself and projecting. He let go of a sigh and leaned against the bar, watching Kolivan make his way back over with the final beer and begin working on the shots.

Keith grabbed one of the full ones and downed it before Kolivan even finished pouring the others. “Thanks.” He gave him a smile before strategically holding three of the shots in his left hand while taking the fourth shot and last beer in his right, then started walking back to the booth.

It wasn’t easy maneuvering through the dense crowd, but Keith made his way back without spilling a whole lot. He figured that had to count for something. After setting down the drinks, he looked up and immediately noticed Lance missing.

“Where’s Lance?” His brows furrowed.

“He said he was going back to help you with the shots.” Shiro looked like he was about to stand. “I can go get him if you want to sit.”

“N-no.” Keith felt a little too eager to go find Lance himself. “It’s alright. I’ll go grab him.” He let go of a breath, trying to make it seem like a chore.

Keith dove back into the crowd, wiggling his way through the drunken patrons. A couple quick side-steppings of fist-driven alcoholics and near-miss spills later, he managed to arrive back at the bar in one piece. But Lance was nowhere in sight.

_Right, that would’ve been too easy._

He didn’t know why he’d thought it would’ve been effortless to spot him in such a crowd. Just because he liked the guy didn’t mean he had some magical Lance sensors. Or maybe he did, because it wasn’t long after he kept looking around when he spotted a familiar strong back of a tan brunette.

The brunette, who friends preferred to call Lance, was accompanied by a slimy looking dude, but maybe that was just Keith’s quick impression. Though it felt more like intuition. Lance’s shoulders seemed tense and his whole body turned away from the guy who was leaning into his personal space. He didn’t seem to know the person trying to hit on him.

“No, fuck you, dude.” Lance spat before attempting to flee.

Keith watched the guy grab Lance’s shoulder to keep him from leaving. Keith weaved through the crowd to get closer, an irritation building inside him. Lance shrugged the hand off but the incessant jerk just reached out for him again and-

“Hi.” Keith spoke calmly as his insides boiled, gripping the sleazy guy’s wrist. Fortunately, he’d caught it before he was able to touch Lance again, holding it out and away from his friend. “Do you want to walk away?” His eyes were fierce, but focused as he glared at the guy. “You don’t have to, but this’ll end a lot easier if you do.” Out of his peripheral, Keith could tell that Lance was frozen at his side, but he felt his blue gaze on him.

As Keith let go of his wrist, the stranger just cackled, seemingly wasted. “Who the hell are you? His boyfriend? You can’t-”

“Would it matter.” Keith stated blankly, still angry at the stupid drunk in front of him. “I’ll answer that for you. It doesn’t. Because you lack basic human decency and respect either way so why don’t you fuck off?” 

The guy groaned, but seemed to look over Keith’s muscles before deciding to trudge off.

Keith didn’t wait for the guy to possibly come back before moving Lance off to the side of the bar, where it was a little quieter. Maybe a little more dimly lit and foul-smelling, because it was near the restrooms, but at least they weren’t near the bar.

Lance let go of a breath. “Holy shit.”

“Are you okay?” Keith looked over to see Lance’s relief.

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks. You’re way too good at that.”

Keith remembered he was still holding onto Lance and, as much as he didn’t want to, he quickly let go.

He cleared his throat, remembering what Lance just said. “Uh, I’ve dealt with unwanted advances before.” He recalled the face of his old teammate—the stupid prick. 

Keith must’ve been frowning or something, because Lance had the softest look of concern on his face. His beautiful blue eyes were wide with worry. “Oh, uh. Nothing bad. I just… I work at a bar.” Keith shrugged and gave a reassuring smile.

Lance blinked those big blues of his as his sweet lips downturned. “Does it happen a lot?”

Keith leaned against the wall behind him as he shook his head. “No. It’s not that bad.”

Lance didn’t say anything. He just walked up to Keith, pressing his body into Keith’s and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. If Keith’s brain had been working right, he would’ve realized it was a hug. But all he could feel was the heat of Lance holding him as his own arms hung limply—stupidly—at his sides.

Was Lance super intoxicated or something? He didn’t seem to be wasted. Maybe a little buzzed but-

“Thanks.” Lance whispered in his ear, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry.”

Lance’s breath hit Keith’s neck and an arousing heat started surging inside him.

He could feel the heavy thuds of his heart and nauseating flips of his stomach, but ignored them to focus on Lance’s words. “Why are _you_ sorry? You didn’t do anything.”

Lance didn’t answer his question. He instead just asked something even more confusing. “Is that why you broke his hand?”

And all Keith could think of was Griffin, because yeah. He had broken that stupid asshole’s hand. But he never told Lance that. “Uh…” Maybe Matt told him. Or Shiro. Regardless, somehow Lance knew. “Yeah.” He breathed.

He only truly talked about it once. To Allura.

It wasn’t anything too traumatizing, but it was uncomfortable enough that he didn’t like talking about it. But he was always weak for Lance. He would tell him anything.

Lance held him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Keith felt a small smile forming on his face as his hands decided to finally move and wrap tentatively around Lance’s back. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no reason for you to say that.” He whispered.

He couldn’t tell how long they stayed like that. It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes. With Lance, time wasn’t really relative. It felt like they were the only people in that bar. In that city. Because Keith couldn’t seem to remember anything other than how Lance felt against him.

But nothing lasted as long as Keith hoped, because Lance started moving away.

As he backed up, he stopped short of pulling away completely. His face was close enough for Keith to see how his pupils dilated in the dim light. Lance’s blue eyes had been looking into Keith’s, searching them for something, but they soon flicked down. Keith instantly felt his lips burning with Lance’s gaze.

He felt his heart stop.

Yeah, Keith was dumb enough to make as many excuses he needed for everything even remotely sexual between him and Lance, downplaying every lingering touch. Every too heated gaze. Every special moment. Because he knew that it was impossible and dumb to even think about Lance being interested in him. But—and maybe it was the alcohol talking—he felt like Lance was going to kiss him.

There was a magnetism to the air. Something heavy that seemed to make everything else stand still. There was a thick heat, and that wasn’t just because they were in a dive bar. Keith’s skin tingled with the electricity and anticipation of Lance’s lips. Waiting patiently as he held his breath and begged Lance with his eyes. Praying for his soft lips.

But it never happened, because Lance was leaning away and giving Keith an awkward smile. “W-we should probably get back to the others.”

And Keith just nodded, feeling a bitter pang in his heart.

As they walked back to the booth, Keith couldn’t help but run that moment over and over again in his head. His heart was still trying to slow back down from it. And he still couldn’t help but think that had Lance really been about to lean in. He wondered if Lance held himself back, because they had just talked about unwanted advances. And he was a caring and respectful guy. He wouldn’t want to make Keith uncomfortable in any way.

If only he knew that any advance from him was anything but unwanted… 

His skin still thrummed with their recent closeness. Keith felt his heart ache as he watched Lance slide into their booth. It was a feeling he really wanted gone. So he grabbed his other shot and tipped it back after he sat down.

“Damn, Keith.” Matt smiled brightly. “Should we get you more?”

Hunk was currently keeping a swaying Pidge from falling forward and smacking their head into the table. “You’re lucky we managed to keep Pidge away from the rest of the shots.”

“They almost snuck more, but Hunk’s a good bodyguard.” Shiro added.

“Thanks, Hunky boy!” Lance gave Hunk a smile before taking his other two shots.

They all drank—water for Pidge, who slowly started recuperating—and laughed for the next hour and a half in Marmora’s Blade. Keith even managed to stop thinking about the almost-kiss every two minutes. He only thought about it every five minutes now. It was an impressive feat.

The members of Voltron all had a decent buzz going, save for a sobering Pidge, as they headed out for the fireworks.

“Oh, man, you guys.” Pidge stretched as they all walked out into the crisp evening air. “I think I’m still a little wonky. Does all that weird shit usually happen when you drink? Or is it because I’m a lightweight?”

“It’s probably because you’re thinner than a toothpick and weigh less than mom’s new pomeranian.” Matt smiled at them.

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Okay, well. I think I need to either start drinking more, to build up my tolerance, or never drink again.” They deducted.

“Yeah, how about no more drinking until you’re able to understand that ‘one shot an hour’ means _one shot an hour._ ” Hunk suggested.

Keith huffed a laugh as Lance chuckled beside him.

He was a bit buzzed, but not even remotely drunk. In the past hour and a half, he hadn’t taken another shot, even though he wanted to. He wanted it to help him ignore how much Lance affected him. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think that would actually work. If anything, getting sloppy drunk to “forget his feelings” would’ve just ended horribly—worse than just owning up to his own stupid emotions.

“This way. The fireworks are in this direction!” Pidge skipped along the sidewalk, guiding them down the street.

Keith wasn’t sure what their destination was. He just knew they were going to see fireworks. He was hoping they weren’t too far, because while he could walk just fine, that didn’t mean he wanted to trek across the city while buzzed.

Shiro stopped by the curb and everyone slowed to join him despite Pidge’s best efforts.

“I propose we just grab an uber.” Matt propped his arm on top of Shiro’s shoulder. "It's-"

"I've never been to _oovo javer_!" Pidge yelled, completely confusing Keith but it made Hunk and Lance laugh.

Matt just continued like Pidge yelling random things was a normal occurrence, which it was. “It’s like a twenty five minute walk from here to Riverside.”

Shiro looked up from his phone. “Plus Allura is meeting us at the Achilles Statue”—Keith immediately felt Lance tense at his side—“which is even further, so yeah. Let’s just get an uber. At least we won’t have to walk all the way.”

Keith had seen the Achilles Statue enough times to know it was on Riverside’s main path. The path that Lance never wanted to go on.

“Is she going to save us seats?” Pidge was nearly bouncing from excitement.

Shiro nodded. “I believe her uncle set up some chairs earlier today. He’s been holding a great spot for us.”

“What a nice uncle!” Hunk beamed.

But all Keith felt was his stomach swirling with nausea, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. “Uh, do we have to watch the fireworks there?” Keith asked, knowing he was going to get weird looks from the group.

Because of course they had to watch them there. Allura was already planning on meeting them there and her freaking uncle had to go and be a great guy and save them all seats since earlier that day. Why the hell would they change locations?

“We have to!” Pidge threw their hands up. “Allura! Allura’s nice uncle! The spots he saved for us all day! And Riverside is the best place to watch the fireworks!” They were more than a little excited.

They all turned their attention to Shiro, waiting for him to get them an uber as they talked over each other with excitement. But Keith just stayed silent and hung in the back of the group.

He looked over to see silently Lance grab the hem of his shirt. 

Keith’s skin burned where Lance’s hand was.

“I… I can’t go.” Lance whispered.

Keith swallowed thickly, knowing that he had to help Lance out in whatever way he could. “Then we won’t go.” He promised. He pulled out his phone and ordered a different uber. One to take them home.

Lance took a breath, sounding relieved. 

Keith turned back to him, searching his face. He looked a little sad. Wistful. So Keith just gently found Lance’s hand and squeezed it before letting go to turn to the rest of the group.

“Uh, hey, guys?” Their attention slowly focused on Keith. “I’m, uh, going to take Lance home.” He swallowed. “H-he’s not feeling too great.” He looked over to see Lance nod beside him.

“It was definitely all the shots.” He sighed, rubbing his head to further solidify their ruse.

Matt was about to complain when Pidge eagerly slapped their hand over his mouth. “Dang, that sucks. I’m so sorry, Lance. But hey, feel better.” They looked oddly happy for their concerned words.

“You’ll get him home safe then?” Hunk softly moped, but seemed to be eased by the idea that someone was going to take care of him.

He nodded. “Yeah, I ordered another uber. I’ll get Lance home.”

Matt was finally able to pry Pidge’s hand off his mouth and breathe. “Man, I wish you guys could come.” He pouted. “But get home safe, okay? Don’t talk to strangers, and if you have to puke just puke. Holding it in will only make you feel worse longer.”

Keith let go of a breath. “Thanks, Matt, but I’m pretty sure Lance knows that.”

A black SUV stopped next to them, and Shiro checked the license plate to confirm that it was their ride.

“Okay, guys. This is it.” Shiro announced before walking over to Keith as the others waved and started piling in. He gave him a quick side hug before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “If you need anything just text me.” He looked to Lance. “And if you start feeling better and want to come back, I’ll pay for your guys’ ride.”

Lance smiled at him. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, but thanks.” Keith quirked a smile at his brother.

Shiro waved, looking back at them one last time as he entered the vehicle.

Lance let go of a breath when they were finally alone. “I’m sorry.” His cute little brows pinched up with guilt.

“Don’t be. I don’t really care for crowds anyway.” Keith shrugged.

There was a moment of silence as Lance busied himself with toeing the ground, kicking around a stray rock. When he spoke up next, his eyes didn’t leave his feet. “Uh… i-is it okay if we still, uh, watch them?”

Keith looked up from his phone, having checked on their wait time, and just slightly raised his brows.

“T-the fireworks.” Lance raised his head. “Together.”

Keith’s heart throbbed warmly as he nodded. “Y-yeah, sure. We can watch them from my roof if you want.”

Lance lit up at Keith’s suggestion. “That sounds great! Uh, yeah, let’s do that.” He looked away with a smile as a beautiful red dusted his freckled cheeks.

It wasn’t long before Keith could feel his own face beginning to warm as his heart throbbed nervously in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is a real homie, knowing what's up and totally encouraging them without making it known that they *know* but they know, ya know? idk
> 
> Also! I didn't have time to finish the art for their casual outfits so I'll post it this week sometime? lol it'll be on my tumblr if you're interested: https://ryderwryter.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	10. the fireworks between them - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna say i've been horribly procrastinating, but something similar bc I just found out about julance a day before july started and did some drawings for it on my twitter (@ryderiyanart, if you're interested) so that took up some of my time! but i'm going to try to focus bc I have plans for this story and I'm suuuuuper excited for the upcoming scenes and I just alkdj;fasjk thank you <3

The car ride wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable… Well, no. That was a lie. It was a bit awkward at first, but Keith wasn’t entirely sure why. He could tell there was an excitement between them. But they both kept their gazes out their windows, not uttering a word.

The anticipation swirling in the air and fluttering in Keith’s gut was impossible to ignore. Though, his own excitement had more to do with spending time with Lance than the fireworks. The latter probably being what Lance was more focused on. That and Keith’s rooftop. Lance had been interested in it since their first run together.

Keith smiled to himself, proud that he would finally be able to take Lance somewhere he wanted to go.

As Keith’s thoughts started swirling with images of them watching the fireworks together—alone—Lance spoke up. His voice low, but just loud enough to hear over the quiet radio.

“Thanks.”

Keith turned his head to face Lance and instantly noticed the soft worrying of his brows. 

“What for?” He nearly whispered, his own voice sounding foreign to him.

Lance took a breath. “For this… f-for helping me. I guess you noticed that I, uh… how I avoid the main path.”

Keith nodded gently.

Lance looked down to his hands as he continued. “I-It just has some… bad memories for me. About my, uh, dad.”

All Keith knew about Lance’s dad was that he left their family when he was around eight. That he left his mom alone with four kids and a stack of piling bills. Not that Keith was even supposed to know that. It was something ninth grade Keith knew. 

But even though he’d bonded with Lance over their lack of fathers in ninth grade, they didn’t discuss many details. So Keith still wasn’t sure what happened at Riverside.

Lance huffed a humorless laugh. “I can’t believe I just said that.” He was still looking at his hands as he shook his head.

Keith couldn’t help the soft worry overtaking his face. 

He could tell something was wrong. Just the mention of his dad was probably hard on him. Keith could still feel the worry on his face when Lance looked back at him with slightly watery eyes.

“I don’t usually talk about it.”

Keith wanted to say something, anything, but he felt like his heart was caught in his throat, keeping the words from escaping him. He only opened his mouth, waiting to hear his own voice come out to comfort his friend. But it never did.

Lance sniffed, his eyes glancing away and out his window. “H-he was probably part of the reason I got so upset and cried that time after practice. I guess I still felt like my failures were still somehow connected to him. To why he left.” Keith’s heart ached at Lance’s words. “It was so long ago, but it still hurts. But that’s really fucked. ‘Cause why do I still care? Why do I still think any of my shit has anything to do with him? It’s stupid. But I also still think… how could my own dad-” Lance’s voice cracked before he cut himself off. Keith caught Lance’s reflection in the car window, watching his beautiful face crumple into a pained expression. “He left me at that stupid Achilles Statue. Just let go of my hand and never came back…” Lance took a wavering breath. “I waited for him for hours because I didn’t even know the way home. I was only eight when-” Lance rested his head against the window and groaned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m being such a fucking bummer right now.”

Keith didn’t realize his hand moved until he felt Lance’s warmth and saw it gently placed on his forearm. The touch caused Lance to look back, vulnerability clear on his features. 

Keith swallowed. “Don’t be sorry.” His eyebrows upturned as he shook his head. “Never feel sorry for talking to me. I’m here for you, Lance.”

Lance’s face softened as he let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing with it. “Thanks… I just, uh, feel really comfortable talking to you.” He met Keith’s gaze for a moment before looking away again. “I never told anyone that… I mean, my mom knows, because the police told her what happened when they dropped me off, but, uh, not even my friends know that. I-I think I almost told my best friend once, but he left before I could tell him.” He shrugged noncommittally but Keith could see the resurfacing sadness in his eyes, making his heart pang with guilt. 

Maybe he was being conceited but Keith felt like Lance was talking about him. Because they had been best friends and Keith had left him, but definitely not on purpose. If he could go back and-

“You kinda remind me of him.” Lance gave a small smile. “Maybe that’s why I feel so comfortable with you… T-that’s not to say you aren’t a comfort in yourself!” He was quick to bring up his hands in an attempt to not offend Keith.

Keith just gently breathed a laugh as his heart lurched in his chest. “I-It’s okay, Lance. I know what you mean. I… I feel really comfortable with you as well.” He gave him a soft smile. “It’s funny how far us rivals have come.”

A smile spread across Lance’s lips. “Yeah. We’re pretty progressive rivals, huh?”

“ _Friendly_ rivals.” He reminded him. “Not to mention, rivals can be complex and layered. Not everything has to be so black and white.” Keith smiled as he fed Lance’s own words back to him, feeling relieved to see the tension leave Lance’s shoulders.

There was a small breath that escaped Lance as he searched Keith’s eyes.

A warmth settled in Keith’s chest as he gazed back, the tingles inside him spreading insatiably. If his feelings were ready to take him over, he surely would have surrendered, but he hadn’t the chance. The car slowed to a stop in front of their destination, prompting them to get out. And unfortunately, breaking their moment in time.

The long walk up fifteen flights wasn’t nearly as awkward as the beginning of their car ride had been, thankfully. They talked freely and laughed as they teased each other, feeling their natural rapport restoring. Not that it had been completely disturbed in the car. It had just been more serious than they usually were, but Keith liked those moments of deep, personal talks. Of bonding. It made him feel like they were gradually getting closer.

Sure, Keith had already felt pretty close to Lance. More so than Lance had with him that was for sure. Keith had past knowledge of his old friend and actually remembered their time together. Even so, that only went so far. They were older now, meaning it wasn’t just about what Keith already knew, but what he was discovering.

Relearning Lance was something entirely satisfying. So much so, Keith wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. All he knew was that it was enjoyable. Lance had so many new aspects to him, making him almost seem like a different person. It made Keith feel like he wasn’t really hiding the fact that he used to know him.

Which he still felt guilty about, but Keith definitely felt like he missed his window of opportunity to say anything. That it was too late to mention it. He figured the easiest way of dealing with it was forgetting about it. 

Older Lance made it easy to see him and ninth grade Lance as separate people. Of course they were similar, but they were also so different in so many ways.

It only made sense. 

They wouldn’t think the exact same way now as they did when they were freshmen. Their world views, ideologies, viewpoints had matured—grown. They had more life experience. More wisdom, albeit still not a whole lot, but everything that Keith was learning made him realize that he was truly getting to know Lance. Maybe not for the first time, but for the person he had become.

And he loved getting to know the present Lance.

There were so many more complex layers to him. Things that the fourteen year old versions of themselves couldn’t even begin to fathom. And as young men in their twenties… well, that brought a whole new world into play. 

A more mature world with jobs and responsibilities. Life pressures that shaped them and built their characters even further. It presented them with challenges and benefits that added to the layers of who they were. And opened up the conversation of intimacy.

It revealed nuanced expressions that Keith had been eager to examine. Figure out. He didn’t ever want to miss what Lance’s face was trying to say. Keith had always been more attentive when it came to his old friend, and he didn’t want that to change. He wanted to know Lance to his very core.

And with that desire to know Lance came the difficulty of ignoring his feelings. Which was a ridiculous statement in and of itself, because Keith would never really be able to isolate how he felt. He just surged those feelings into improving on and off the court. Into bantering with Lance. Into slowly, but surely getting to know him again. As a friend.

Always just a friend.

Because even though he couldn’t deny his feelings, he treasured what he had with Lance. But it was a big step in just admitting his feelings. After trying to convince himself otherwise at every turn, he was finally accepting how he felt. That he _liked_ Lance. 

He _really_ liked him.

As much as Keith thought he had a crush on him before, it was nothing compared to how he felt about him now. It was deafening how his heart would beat for Lance. Sickening how his stomach fluttered with his feelings. It was entirely infuriating that he couldn’t do anything about it other than just experience his feelings grow. They grew every time he talked to Lance, spent time with him. All the previously mundane things in life became something entirely precious and beautiful when he was with Lance. Euphoria clouded his heart and threatened to take over his mind.

But Keith couldn’t let that happen.

He needed to stay responsibly coherent. He didn’t want to ruin what they had. With Lance becoming an even more treasured person to Keith than he had been before, it was important that he didn’t do anything to hurt their relationship. Knowing Lance and having him in his life again was worth so much more than trying to pursue something that might not happen anyway.

And bringing Lance up to his rooftop to watch the fireworks together, which felt like a romantic thing, was simply because they were friends. Keith avoided even thinking about the word _romantic_ so he wouldn’t get distracted. Because being Lance’s friend was easy as long as he wasn’t focused on how much he wanted to be _more_ with him. How he wanted to hold him. Kiss him. Be with him.

Though, if Lance had kissed him at Marmora, then Keith would’ve sure as hell kissed back. He wasn’t that much of an idiot…

 _Which is untrue, because I'm an absolute idiot_ , Keith thought.

While tenants weren’t actually allowed roof access, the landlord didn’t care enough to enforce the rule. Even so, Keith hadn’t anticipated that anyone else would be up there. Hadn’t even thought about people other than him and Lance, really. But as he opened the heavy roof access door, he saw groups of people scattered around the mediocre flat roof with its low concrete ledges.

He turned to Lance, about to apologize, when he saw Lance’s look of pure fascination. The fireworks hadn’t started yet, but just the view was enough to captivate Lance’s attention. His eyes were wide with excited curiosity and adorable eyebrows raised softly. Beautiful lips slightly parted in amazement.

Keith closed his dumb mouth and looked away, trying not to stare at his friend. He just looked around for a good place to sit as Lance took everything in. As soon as he found a spot, he turned back to Lance, only to catch him already staring with a soft smile.

He ignored the way his heart jumped and gave an apologetic look. “Sorry. I didn’t really think about there being other people, and I know it’s kinda dirty and-”

Lance shook his head. “It’s beautiful up here.” He glanced around at the surrounding city with its thousands of twinkling lights that lit up the dark of the night before returning his gaze to Keith. “Where should we sit? I think the fireworks are gonna start soon.”

“Uh, I think over there should be okay.” Keith pointed around the corner of the stairway’s hut. It was off to the side and away from the groups of people, so he figured it’d be a little more private. They could rest against the structure and still be facing the Arus River. Since that was where the fireworks were being shot from, it made for a decent place to sit.

As soon as they started walking over, distant cracks and sizzles of bursting fireworks sounded. Keith automatically stopped in his tracks to look up, but Lance seemed to have other plans because he immediately grabbed Keith’s hand and hurriedly pulled him to the spot he’d pointed out. They sat down in a rush, falling against each other slightly. Keith ignored it to focus his gaze on the beautiful spectacle before them, and probably—most definitely—to keep himself from getting flustered.

Small orbs of light shot straight up into the night sky, exploding as they reached their peak. Colorful streams of light followed the eruption out every which way, creating different mesmerizing effects against the black backdrop. Sounds of excited gasps and impressed sighs accompanied the booms, filling Keith’s ears.

He relaxed against the brick hut behind them as they watched wordlessly.

Keith felt Lance move beside him. He tried focusing on the bright display in front of them, but something brushed against his leg. His heart jolted in his chest when he realized it was Lance’s leg resting against his own. So casual and yet… Keith’s gut was quickly overrun with butterflies, lively flitting about inside him.

He concentrated on the scene in the sky as his skin burned where Lance was pressed against him. Unforgiving in demanding his attention.

His heart thundered in sync with the rapid fireworks that shot up one after another. Various shapes and colors flared and sparkled across the night sky. With every new burst was a new shape. Some looked as though they were astral explosions or falling stars, while others took the forms of bleeding flowers and magnificent rings of light.

Keith’s mouth had been agape as he watched in fascination—still feeling Lance pressed wonderfully against him—but he soon felt the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. It’d been a while since he last saw fireworks, and while he didn’t think much of them in general, experiencing them was a different story.

Another shift, and Lance was even closer. Their shoulders were touching now, and Keith was sure he couldn’t feel his hands. The buzzing across his skin was almost too overwhelming. He was insanely sensitive to Lance’s every movement, but it was so worth it. His chest warmed to comfort the invading butterflies soaring up from his stomach.

His smile widened ever so slightly as he watched the fireworks, feeling Lance so close next to him. The pressure of Lance’s limbs leaning against him was as exciting as the fireworks before them. A childlike amusement overtook him, bubbling a visceral excitement deep in his gut. It was something like _giddy_.

The fireworks were thrilling. Breathtaking. Like Lance.

Keith instinctively glanced over to his friend, eager to see his reaction to the fireworks. To their close proximity, if he was even affected at all. But there was a sudden shift in Keith’s world as his eyes caught his friend’s face. There were no fireworks. There were no city lights. The people littered around the roof were nonexistent. Even sounds around him deafened.

There was only Lance, his sweet face lighting up with flares of colors in the dark.

Lance with his beautiful features overwhelmed in a fascination. With his soft lips that breathed their approval at a sight Keith no longer paid attention to. Not that he even could if he wanted to. Darkness shrouded any other possible distraction for Keith, leaving Lance as his sole focus.

It was almost like Keith was five years old again, hiding under his blanket, all alone, surrounded by a sobering black. Except, Lance was there with him this time. The light in his lonely world. A light that had him smiling ridiculously soft as his heart warmed at the sight of his friend.

Lance looked over so abruptly that it startled Keith, which only made him smile wider as his eyes caught Keith’s. “They’re beautiful.”

And all Keith could think was, _you’re beautiful_.

Keith quickly looked back to the bright explosions, eager to calm his racing heart. “They really are…” He breathed.

Keith felt a squeeze and looked down to see Lance still holding his hand. His eyes flicked up to catch Lance’s as a cautious questioning coursed through him.

Their faces were barely a foot apart, and there was that look in Lance’s eyes again.

That look that made Keith’s gut churn with hot anticipation as his heart fluttered with hope. It was almost hard to breathe with how his feelings swelled in his chest, waiting.

 _Yearning_.

But Lance didn’t lean in. He merely blurted, “I-I’m glad we’re friends,” with a nervous edge to his voice.

“Yeah.” Keith’s heart throbbed. “Me too.”

It wasn’t exactly what Keith had been hoping for, but he still appreciated the sentiment. Even though Keith’s feelings for Lance grew with every passing day, being Lance’s friend was great in and of itself… It was all he should hope for.

He felt foolish for even expecting anything else.

“Y-you did great, by the way.”

“What?” Keith blinked, trying to figure out if he missed something.

“Our first bracket game. You were amazing.” Lance’s voice wavered slightly as he seemed to be struggling with his gaze for some reason.

Maybe Keith wasn’t the only one affected by their close proximity.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Keith felt butterflies flitting about in his chest. “Your… your dunk was pretty impressive.” He breathed a nostalgic sigh. “Seems like you’ve been practicing. F-for years probably—it seemed.” Keith cleared his throat to appear casual and not like he knew that that was something Lance had dreamed of doing since he started playing.

“Yeah.” Lance ducked his head as a smile curled onto his face. “Since the beginning of high school.” He gave a nostalgic laugh. “I couldn’t even throw properly back then.”

“Good thing you had your friend to help you.”

Lance’s eyes snapped back up to Keith’s. “How-”

“Y-you just talk about him a lot.” Keith held his free hand up, realizing Lance was still holding onto his other one.

“Oh, right.” Lance nodded as he looked back to the fireworks, seeming a little pensive. “You’re a really good listener.”

“I’m alright.” Keith breathed, turning his gaze to the colors bursting in the night sky.

He was getting a little nervous.

One of these days he would just have to tell Lance who he was straight up. The guilt of keeping it a secret just because Keith was some awkward dumbass was getting hard to handle. Especially when Lance talked so sweetly about his old friend. About _him_.

“Uh, hey…” Lance spoke up, and Keith looked over to see him still staring at the bright scene. “W-what’s, uh, Shiro’s last name?”

 _Random_.

“Shirogane.” Keith’s brows furrowed at the odd question. “That’s, uh, where his nickname comes from.”

“Oh… so you’re, uh, Keith Shirogane?”

Keith’s heart stopped in his chest.

He never mentioned his last name in front of Lance. No one else really used it either. He was just Keith. It was a little random for Lance to be asking about it now, but maybe he was just curious. It wasn’t like he knew Shiro _wasn’t_ Keith’s blood brother. Keith didn’t think it was a necessary detail.

But if Keith told Lance his last name… would he recognize it?

Even if his first name had been different?

Had been… 

_Yurak._

Keith nearly winced. The old name held not so fond memories for him. He was fortunate enough to have been given the option to pick his own name when he was adopted. One of the best gifts his adoptive parents ever gave him really.

“N-not exactly.” He swallowed.

Why was Lance asking about it now? It felt like such random timing-

“Then, Kogane?” Lance looked over.

_Oh._

So he knew.

How?

Keith felt paralyzed in Lance’s gaze. His heart stopped along with his breathing. Did Lance actually _know_? Remember him? Or was he just curious? There were a million questions on Keith’s mind, but all he could let out was a shaky breath.

Lance continued. “I just, uh, it was on the back of your jersey so I was curious… Sorry if-”

“Oh. Uh, n-no. It’s fine.” Keith shook his head, feeling entirely dumb he forgot about that. “Uh, yeah.”

Keith really hoped he wasn’t going to regret admitting that. Not that lying would’ve been better. He never wanted to lie to Lance. If he asked, Keith would tell him. Even if he wasn’t prepared. Even if he was nervous or scared. Even though his heart pounded relentlessly in his chest.

Lance nodded thoughtfully to himself, looking back to the fireworks. “So it’s not your middle name?” He uttered, almost to himself.

“Why would it be my middle name?” Keith was officially lost.

Lance didn’t answer his question. He only breathed his name. “Keith Kogane.” He mused, seeming deep in thought.

“Lance McClain.” Keith echoed, trying to seem casual. Act like nothing was wrong. Like the knots in his stomach weren’t making him sick.

“Why is your last name different from Shiro’s?”

And there it was.

“Uh…”

This was it.

Keith was going to tell Lance he was adopted. That he kept his own last name. Because while his new family took him in, he wasn’t a _part_ of them. That his first name was the only thing that changed. Changed to give him a sense of control over his own life. 

And if Lance asked what his name used to be, he would tell him. Or if Lance figured it out on his own, so be it. He found it weird that he was feeling so anxious about Lance finding out. Shouldn’t he be happy? Lance would finally remember him… 

A loud cacophony of harsh explosions boomed in rapid succession, capturing their attention. They both swiveled their heads back to the grand finale of the fireworks display as people cheered at the grandeur.

Keith almost forgot they were still going on.

He felt Lance relax next to him, leaning back against the brick wall to watch. Lance’s arm brushed against his own, but Keith ignored it to concentrate the impressive show before him, feeling the echoing booms slightly reverberate in his chest along with his rapid heart.

It seemed as though he was safe for a few more moments.

But as the last of the bright lights sizzled out, Keith cautiously looked over to see Lance turning to him.

Lance’s mouth was opening, no doubt about to repeat his question. But something inside Keith made him fearful of the truth. That somehow Lance would hate him for not telling him. 

God, he hated how his insides ached with worry.

So he spoke before Lance could. “I-I should probably get you home.”

Lance looked a little surprised, but just shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I-I can walk myself. I’m not even tipsy anymore.”

“Then I’ll, uh, walk you downstairs at least.”

“Jeez, dude. Don’t worry about it. That’s a lot of stairs.” Lance chuckled as they stood.

Keith shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

Lance looked over at him for a moment, just raking his soft gaze across Keith’s face. “Alright, thanks.” He smiled.

They headed toward the staircase and made their way down the fifteen flights of Keith’s apartment building, lightly chatting with that friendly banter they always had at their disposal. And surprisingly, Lance didn’t bring his question up again—much to Keith’s relief. But Keith had to question his alleviation because why _wouldn’t_ he want Lance to figure out who he was? Wasn’t that a good thing?

It could be.

But Keith didn’t see himself getting out of this unscathed. 

If Lance discovered who Keith was and learned he hadn’t said anything all this time… Keith couldn’t bear the thought of Lance’s hurt face. He didn’t want to see the sadness in his eyes. The pain _he_ was responsible for.

Though, maybe after the initial hurt, it would end up bringing them closer.

They were old friends, after all.

But even that had consequences, because knowing Lance, he was overwhelmingly close with his friends. And while Keith could handle their friendship—adore it really—it was the promise of Lance’s platonically affectionate side coming out that had him worried. They rarely touched now and it still sent his heart racing every time, so if Lance started hanging all over him again… and texting him sweet things and caring deeply about him, then Keith was fucked.

And that was the good outcome.

Because it could also potentially tear them apart.

Keith could lose Lance… 

Just thinking about it broke his heart.

So, if Keith was able to choose, then of course he would want to be friends. He just knew it would be rough, and that there was the possibility of Lance figuring out Keith’s true feelings. Which could also ruin their relationship.

And that was what made it so entirely terrifying.

That either way Lance reacted, it would have a downside. Because Keith could love him more than he already did and it still wouldn’t make a difference. Lance would either hate him or adore him, and Keith couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg... keith totally just used the L word. also, he's such an angsty boi gawd I love him so much and (if you couldn't tell) i love the angst! but i am also so very ready for them to kiss kiss fall in love~ I'm so excited dklafj;dlkjf 
> 
> ALSO, I’ve decided to post each new chapter when I have the next chapter finished, so it most likely won’t be a weekly thing anymore. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but the more I pressure myself to write the less I’m able to. Thank you for understanding <3
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3


	11. mystery misery - lance's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> several mysteries are unraveling but which ones get solved?? (sry things have been slow, work has been taking up a lot of my time and when I have free time I stare off into space every other paragraph lol)

It was unfortunate that Lance started examining his feelings, because  _ god damn. _ He knew he liked Keith, but ever since he realized it, his emotions seemed to swell with every gaze. With every lingering touch. With every comment of sharp wit that battled Lance’s own. 

Their interactions helped—and cursed—him to a deeper understanding. Lance  _ really _ liked Keith. And it was killing him.

It was nearly impossible to see him as just a teammate. As just a friend. Keith had become an enjoyable constant in Lance’s life. A special part of his day. His presence was something Lance looked forward to.

Which scared the living shit out of him. Because how the hell were things supposed to stay normal with his feelings running amuck? His heart was blatantly bossing around his head, making him say the dumbest shit and do even stupider crap.

He’d nearly kissed Keith twice that night. Once in the bar after Keith saved him and once on Keith’s rooftop. When all they could see was each other. Well, that was how Lance felt at least. But he was almost sure it was a mutual thing… 

Lance squealed to himself as he rolled around on his bed, recalling his night.

God, Keith had looked so ready for it. So compliant and willing for Lance’s lips. Both times his sweet lips parted, mouth hanging open ever so slightly as his eyes pleaded with him. His breath halted in anticipation. The same anticipation Lance had felt. And yet, both times Lance interrupted their moment with something stupid.

Like who the hell almost kisses their friend then prevents it by saying “I’m glad we’re friends”?

NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND.

Lance always knew he had problems. He just didn’t think he’d ever be so incapable when it came to feeling his feelings. He was confidently in tune with his emotions. Probably because he had a lot of them. All the time. Mixing and swirling and overwhelming him. It was inevitable that he’d get to know them well.

And that fact just made his denial and avoidance of his feelings for Keith all the more impressive. Because Lance really should’ve known. He wasn’t a stranger to the butterflies of a new crush or the deepening warmth toward a special person. Maybe he’d just been that desperate to keep things as they were. To keep Keith as his rival, pushing him to improve upon his skills and distract him from the worries that would inevitably come with the Streetball Competition.

But all that went out the window when Keith became his friend. When they grew closer. When Keith showed him time after time how wonderful he was. How he listened to Lance. Cared about his opinion. Wanted to get to know him. Jumped to help him without a second thought.

Keith was just impossibly  _ there  _ for Lance.

And Lance wasn’t ignorant. He didn’t confuse the feelings of Keith doing things for him as love. No, he knew he didn’t like him merely because of that. There were so many things about Keith that made Lance’s heart go fuzzy with feelings. Listening to Keith talk about himself was a treasure that he was always eager to experience. Learning him and memorizing the things that made Keith  _ Keith _ never got old. Just being in his presence was rewarding—even when they weren’t talking or competing.

He simply enjoyed the person that Keith was.

It was too bad Lance had to ruin their moments with his nerves.

He still couldn’t believe how the most random topics jumped off his tongue when his heart couldn’t stand the warmth between them. The way Keith looked at him just did something to Lance so Lance had to do something back. And that something had to be asking dumb stuff.

Lance groaned into his pillow as he remembered Keith’s look of terror when he brought up the whole last name thing.

At least he learned that Kogane wasn’t his middle name. That it was his last name. And that was a win because finally Lance’s idiotic brain could delusionally pair his own first name with Keith’s last name in some sick, twisted daydream that made him nauseous with how hopelessly gross it was.

That last name still itched at him, though.

_ Kogane. _

As much as he wanted to talk about it, he knew it would make Keith tense up again. Make him close up and pull away, and that was the last thing Lance wanted. If Keith was comfortable with explaining it then he would have. Lance wouldn’t have had to ask again. But Keith didn’t bring it up after the fireworks interrupted them so Lance let it go. Even though it gnawed at his insides.

He wouldn’t think about it anymore because it didn’t even really matter. Keith was Keith no matter what his last name was. He was still the guy who lent Lance dry clothes in the middle of a thunderstorm. Who took Lance’s dark moment of uncontrollable overthinking and just hugged him, telling him that he was more than enough. Who didn’t hesitate to save him from himself and numerous uncomfortable situations.

He was the guy who texted him five minutes after being apart.

**(23:15) Keef McSmiles:** Did you get home okay?

A smile curled onto Lance’s face as he rolled around on his bed—unable to control his jittering glee. His smitten features were illuminated by his screen as he excitedly texted Keith back.

**(23:16) Lance:** yeah, did u??

**(23:16) Keef McSmiles:** we were at my place, Lance. Of course I did.

Lance’s heart tingled with just how  _ Keith  _ Keith was.

Damn he really liked him.

**(23:17) Lance:** hey a guy’s gotta make sure, anything cld happen on those 12 flights up

**(23:17) Keef McSmiles:** did you feel that? I rolled my eyes at you

**(23:18) Lance:** ouch, this is the treatment I get for caring about you?!

**(23:18) Keef McSmiles:** hm, sounds like a personal problem dude

Lance huffed a laugh. 

**(23:19) Lance:** you sure are

Keith was very much his personal problem. And entirely troublesome. Liking him, caring about him, joking around with him and finding his feelings grow with every interaction were hard things to deal with. 

It was completely upsetting. 

But only in the way that Lance wasn’t quite sure how Keith felt about him.

**(23:20) Keef McSmiles:** get some rest, weirdo

**(23:21) Lance:** what and miss talkin to u? no way, not when ur being so sweet to me~

**(23:22) Keef McSmiles:** you are something else

**(23:22) Lance:** in a good way!

**(23:23) Lance:** wait. it is in a good way right?

**(23:25) Keef McSmiles:** in an interesting way…

Interesting didn’t mean bad, but it didn’t necessarily mean good.

An unsure groan escaped Lance as he started texting back, but another text popped up.

**(23:25) Keef McSmiles:** :)

_ Ah. _

Like a breath of fresh air, there was a Keith smiley. It warmed Lance’s soul like a home cooked meal or a tight hug. It was as refreshing as a cool breeze on a summer day. And so entirely adorable that Lance would never get over it. No matter how many times Keith had already texted one. It was always exciting to receive.

**(23:26) Lance** : interesting huh? I’ll take it lol

**(23:26) Lance:** and thanks again for tonight, I had a good time

He really did.

Being around Keith was just… great. 

Even though Lance had been a bit heavy on the car ride over and said some stupid stuff toward the end of the night, it was still a good time.

Holding his hand hadn’t been intentional, but the way neither of them let go was probably one of the best things Lance felt that night. Definitely up there with feeling the warmth of Keith’s skin through his clothes—thank god they sat so close together—and almost getting to kiss him.

Even confiding in Keith was nice.

Lance felt like a weight was lifted off him once he said it. Once he finally told someone exactly what happened to him. He’d been holding onto more than he thought by never mentioning it. It was comforting, trusting Keith with that. And receiving his support in return.

Okay, so maybe the whole night was great. Lance just cringed at how his past self was so dumb sometimes! He didn’t know how he went from suave flirt to awkward blurter around Keith. Was his confidence wavering just because he was in a hot guy’s presence? Did Keith really have that much of an affect on him?

A buzz interrupted Lance from his thoughts.

**(23:27) Pidgerson:** Hope I’m not interrupting *wink wonk* but I’m just wondering if your little lie was worth it, you faker. You missed Allura’s uncle, who’s really weird and cool btw, and some awesome team bonding time! Keith’s booty better be amazing.

**(23:27) Lance:** PIDGE WHT THE FCK!!!

And of course, as soon as Lance texted back, Pidge called.

“Pidge, what the-”

“ _ Am I interrupting?  _ ” Pidge’s voice was clearly smug.

“No! Of fucking course you would think my sickness was a lie. It isn’t, by the way!” And if Lance coughed as convincingly as he was able—which wasn’t very—then that was just a part of the fake sick narrative he’d committed himself to. “I’m not even with Keith right now. I’m at home! Feeling sick!”

“ _ Lovesick?  _ ”

“Fuck you.”

“ _ No, fuck _ you.  _ Fake coughing doesn’t help your oh so serious case of ‘alcohol poisoning’. _ ” Lance could hear Pidge’s eyeroll. “ _ And you’re acting as though it was hard to discern. You’re a bad actor. Especially regarding your little fling with Keith. You guys are  _ not  _ slick. The pining stares. The gross flirty banter. The lingering touches that I wish I could burn from my fucked memories. Honestly, I could go on and on. So don’t you think for a second that you’ve been hiding it well in any sort of way. _ ”

“I-you-fuck…” He wasn’t sure how to save face when Pidge was already so in tune with his feelings. “Dammit, Pidge…” He sighed. “Am I really that transparent?”

“ _ I’ll give you some credit. I’m pretty sure that you didn’t even realize your own feelings until, uuhh, hmmm… probably our first bracket game. So you were irritatingly oblivious, but at least you weren’t trying to hide anything. Because you’re such a bad liar. Your face is a total giveaway.  _ Every. Time. _ So… I forget my point. _ ”

“You were trying to give me some credit.” Lance mumbled, rolling onto his other side.

“ _ Oh, right! At least you weren’t trying to act the whole time! Keith would probably get sick of you pretending to not see his advances as much as you used your rivalry to ‘negate’ your feelings- _ ”

“His advances? Pidge, there’s no fuckin-”

“ _ Oh my god! Let me make this more clear for you. Keith motherfucking Kogane likes Lance motherfucking McClain just as much as Lance mother- _ ”

“Pidge, stop. I know you’re smart and everything, but Keith and I…” Keith. Keith Kogane.  _ Kogane. _ “Wait, Pidge. Do you… Why are Shiro and Keith’s last names different?”

“ _ Random. Don’t try to change the subject!  _ ”

“Ugh, okay, fine! I admit it! I like  _ like  _ Keith and I want to kiss him and hold his hand and spend more rainy days cuddling him! So now can you-”

“More?! _ You’re  _ already _ cuddling him and you didn’t know he was into you?? Both of you are fucking idiots. _ ”

“No, that’s not what I-” Lance released a heavy sigh. “Can you  _ please _ just answer my question now?”

“ _ I can’t believe Keith hasn’t told you himself given how much time you two spend together. Honestly, if he hasn’t said anything then why should I-” _

“Pidge, please.” Lance begged, an odd desperation in his tone. One that even he didn’t understand.

“ _ Jeez. It’s because Keith’s adopted, dumbass. But why are you even concerned with that- _ ”

“Thanks.” Lance uttered before hanging up.

His room went silent, save for the soft sound of his own breathing. 

Lance stared at the black phone screen in his hand. Half his face was buried in the pillow as he laid there on top of his covers, thinking.

Was that why Keith had looked so nervous? Did he think Lance would think less of him for some reason? Or was it just because Keith didn’t like talking about his family? He said he wasn’t close with them.

Lance’s heart clenched as he slipped between his sheets, seeking the warm comfort of his blanket.

Had he overstepped? Should he just have waited for Keith to tell him? But now he knew and Keith-

Lance felt his stomach churn with guilt for even asking Pidge. It wasn’t fair of him to beg them for an answer. It should’ve been Keith who openly wanted to give Lance that personal information. It should’ve been his choice whether he wanted to share it or not.

Fuck.

The guilt crumpled Lance into a ball under his covers. But it was soon accompanied by something else.

A raw throbbing of provocation.

Keith was adopted. Which wasn’t an odd thing in and of itself, but that should’ve relieved Lance’s anxiety because his mystery had been solved. And yet, his weird feeling persisted. It gnawed at his insides even more than before. It was like something was right there in front of him and he couldn’t see it.

It was entirely frustrating.

A tension started building in his chest to aid in his vexation. It settled around his lungs for the sole sake of discomfort, not caring that it irked Lance to a nearly unbearable degree. The nauseating grip on his chest only dissipated when a buzz interrupted his growing distress.

Lance took a steadying breath as he unlocked his phone to see two messages.

**(23:28) Keef McSmiles:** I’m just glad you were still able to enjoy the fireworks.. I had a good time too

—

**(23:35) Pidgerson:** I wouldn’t bring that up with Keith if he hasn’t said anything to you about it. I’m pretty sure Matt said family was a touchy subject for him so just do me a favor and don’t be an idiot about it (: and don’t tell him I told you. Thanks, enjoy your angst!

Lance let go of a harsh sigh. 

Pidge didn’t even know how truly correct they were.

The mixing of guilt and irritation was getting to him. It was frustrating how Lance couldn’t understand the awful aching inside him. It almost felt like a loss. Like there was something that Lance should know or have, but didn’t. And it was driving him crazy.

  
  


Lance knew he was staring.

He couldn’t help it.

Keith had his jersey on. Last name clear on the back.

The name Lance couldn’t get out of his head. 

It wasn’t always at the forefront of his mind, but there were times when it’d linger in the back, reminding him that he was missing something. And it wasn’t terribly difficult ignoring it when he was around Keith sans jersey, but when Lance was alone or it was game day, it was hard not to feel that frustrating sense of not knowing. Especially when Keith’s jersey practically mocked him.

“So why aren’t you doing anything about it?” Pidge whispered. 

Way too loudly for Lance’s comfort.

Keith was only slightly ahead of them as Voltron walked into Garrison Stadium for their final bracket game. Pidge and Lance were in the rear of the group, walking slower on purpose so Pidge could berate him for not coming onto Keith harder.

Because, sure,  _ that _ was Lance’s biggest problem… 

“I’m just letting it naturally take its course.” He shrugged.

He still wasn’t convinced that Keith liked him back. Even if Pidge was smart that didn’t mean they could read minds or know Keith’s feelings if he hadn’t even said them himself.

“Ah, so you’re a coward.”

“No!” Lance hissed, then lowered his voice as a few passerbys gave him a weird look. “No, I’m just… I don’t want to come on too strong. I want him to feel comfortable. And for it to be natural. And I  _ really _ don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Natural? Friendships?” Pidge raised an incredulous brow. “Where’s the guy who flirts like his life depends on it?” 

“You mean high school Lance? Yeah, that guy has grown. Matured. He now very much cares about keeping Keith in his life.”

“What? You think showing him how you feel will push him away? Lance, he likes-”

“But what if he doesn’t, Pidge? I don’t want him to feel weird about it.” Lance’s brows scrunched up just thinking about accidentally making him feel anything like he had with that one guy. The guy with the broken hand.

“Okay, let’s say he doesn’t like you for a second-”

“He doesn’t.” Lance side-eyed Pidge, then felt their wrath. “Ow! What the hell-”

“Let’s  _ pretend _ he doesn’t like you for a second.” Pidge continued on like they hadn’t just punched him. “You flirt with him all the time whether either of you are conscious of it or not. So, upping your flirting game—not excessively obviously but just enough to hint at things without pressuring him—is, in my humble opinion, totally acceptable. And then, if he doesn’t return the feelings, like in this delusional hypothetical, you can just back off. I’m pretty sure you can tell if he’s feeling uncomfortable. You stare at his face enough.” They huffed.

Lance felt his face heating up. “I-I…” He had no reason to deny it. Pidge was seer of all. “I guess that makes sense.” He mumbled.

“So you’re gonna start flirting with him? Well, flirting more than just your ‘rivalry’ bit.” 

“I don’t kno-hey! The rivalry ‘bit’ was very real! That had  _ nothing _ -well, hardly anything to do with flirting.”

Pidge just gave him a blank stare.

Lance groaned before continuing. “Okay. It wasn’t intentional, but I may have flirted a couple times using the rivalry as a front but it was only like twice.” Pidge’s expression remained unchanged. “Anyway! If it feels right in the moment, maybe I’ll flirt for real. But I’m just trying to be…” He ruffled the back of his hair as he released a breath. “ _ Natural,  _ remember?”

“Right, yeah, yeah. Like I get it and even agree with you, but you’re  _ naturally _ an idiot so I don’t have much hope for the two of you.” Pidge stated with an unamused look.

Lance bumped them with his hip. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re oblivious. I’m just trying to be a good friend.” 

“Well, damn, I think I missed the memo.” Lance teased.

“I’m fucking awesome and you know it.”

“You’re a little awesome.” Lance felt his mouth curl up.

Then his eyes swept over Keith’s jersey and his smile fell.

“Uh, great talk and all, but we should be focusing on the competition.” Lance cleared his throat and started mentally preparing himself for their upcoming game. “If we win today, we’ll get to enter the Championships and-”

“We’ll win.” Pidge smiled at him. “And point taken. Feelings are tough. And stressful games are hard enough to concentrate on without the interference of a love affair.” Pidge released a breath. “Alright, I’ve decided to allow it. But after the Champs I really think you should just tell him how you feel.” They jabbed him with their elbow.

“If it feels right, then sure.” Lance breathed, his voice still low. “But if I don’t think Keith feels the same then there’s no way-”

Lance stopped himself short as they entered the locker room.

A familiar older gentleman was chatting away with Allura.

“Coran?” Lance squeaked with surprise.

Coran’s orange hair whipped from how quickly he looked over. “Lance?? Oh, my boy! I’m so excited to see you!!” Coran hurriedly gathered him up into a firm hug, and Lance hugged him back just as hard. “It’s been a while, huh?” Coran pulled back to give him an excited smile.

“Yeah.” Lance grinned, letting a breath of disbelief escape him. “W-what are you doing here?”

Allura walked up with a confused, but calm, smile. “You two know each other?”

“Oh, yes, princess!-”

“Princess?” Lance raised an amused brow and Allura just shook her head in embarrassment at the nickname.

“-This is Lance! Lance McClain!” Coran said like it would explain everything.

“Uh, I do believe I know that already, dear uncle.”

“Wait. UNCLE?!” Lance looked between Allura and Coran with wide eyes. “ _ You’re _ the brilliant sports analyst and head of Altea Sports??”

“Well, don’t look so shocked, whippersnapper. Where did you think all my teachings came from? Certainly not experience. I’m as athletic as a wet noodle!” Coran guffawed. “Lance, meet Allura, my niece. Allura, this is Lance, my studious pupil I’ve told you about over the years. The one I highly recommended to join your team!”

“Uncle, we know each other. Lance is already on my team.”

“Oh, quiznak! Really?” Coran leaned in close to inspect the Voltron jersey Lance was wearing. “It sure seems like it, huh? Well, this is great news! I’m glad you finally feel comfortable enough to join Tier 1 again, Lance. I’m so proud of you.” Coran smiled warmly as he pulled him in for another hug.

Lance didn’t even hesitate to accept it. He didn’t care that other teams were staring, or even his own. He missed his old mentor. And in hindsight, Lance realized that he should’ve told Coran what was going on. He felt bad thinking about him visiting Atlas Park just to find that Lance wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry.” Lance frowned as they pulled apart. “I should’ve told you. You didn’t wait around for me did you?”

Coran shook his head as he waved his index finger about. “No, no. I got your text about not visiting Altas as much so I was fine! And you needn’t worry about me, youngster. I was just hoping you were doing well.” He smiled then leaned in close enough to whisper. “How were my letters? Inspiring enough? Did they help?”

“Letters?” Lance furrowed his brows in thought, then a jolt of realization ran through him. “ _ YOU _ SENT THEM?” His eyes were wide.

His letters. His sweet, weird words of encouragement that Lance kept despite himself. No wonder he liked them so much. They came from his mentor.

“Didn’t you know? They were in my handwriting!”

Lance laughed. Only Coran would think he’d remember his handwriting. “I’m sorry. I guess I was distracted.” He shrugged, not having the heart to admit he didn’t actually recognize Coran’s penmanship.

“I’m just happy you were busy improving! You’ve come a long way. I can already tell just by the way you hold yourself. Are you enjoying Tier 1? I bet you’re thriving!”

Lance huffed a laugh as he noticed the rest of his team at least pretending to get ready for their match, leaving them to talk. “Uh, yeah. It’s great. I have my team to thank for helping me so much. And having a beneficiary relieved a good amount of the pressure.”

Coran grinned. “I’m so glad I was able to help you even though I didn’t know it!!”

“What do you mean?”

“Uncle Coran is our beneficiary. That’s why he came to watch our final bracket game today.” Allura smiled from her place off to the side. 

“Really?” Lance let out a breath of awe. His mentor was so freaking cool. “Beneficiary  _ and _ head of Altea Sports… wow.” Lance was taking in a lot of new information. “Hey, I don’t think I’m nervous to meet you anymore. Even if you are a genius.” He chuckled.

“And I believe Allura was entirely right in her decision to have us meet. I can’t believe my Lance was her Lance!” He chortled. “I’d love to show you around the company sometime!”

“Yeah, definitely.” Lance’s features brightened as a smile overtook his face.

He was feeling light.

Having figured out the sender behind his letters and overcoming his underlying anxiety about meeting Allura’s uncle helped him immensely. And being able to see Coran again after so long warmed his heart. It distracted him enough that he didn’t even think about Keith’s last name or the aching that came with it.

Excitement flooded Lance, readying him for the final bracket match. And with Coran there, he had another person to look to. Another person who helped ground him when he was overwhelmed or worried or stressed. Not that he even had it as bad as he used to. In growing and improving, he didn’t feel as nervous. As jittery. As anxious.

No, Lance felt good.

Luckily, after Volron’s first bracket game, Lance did exceedingly better at not letting Keith distract him. He learned to focus solely on the game, only allowing himself to get lost in Keith’s smile when he had the time for it. Which, sadly, was only after the match.

And this final game would be no different.

Voltron had to win.

They had to move onto the Championships. To be a part of the Final Sixteen. To have a shot at winning the Champs Cup. Lance wasn’t even sure how much the grand prize amounted to this year but he was pretty stoked just to be playing in Tier 1. The money wasn’t his only motivation.

Lance felt himself concentrate as their team warmed up. It wasn’t too long before they took their positions on the court, waiting for the toss-up to begin. 

The team competing against them nearly mirrored Voltron in stature, but that’s where the similarities ended. The City Yalmores were greater in mass and meaner in expression than their Voltron counterparts. But Lance pushed down his flitting nerves to calm himself. He knew his team was good. They improved with every damn practice. They would win.

They had to win.

The starting whistle echoed in Lance’s ears as his heart jumped into action, pumping him with blood as he ran around the court. His deep appreciation for the screech of eager sneakers on hardwood pushed him to keep his feet moving.

He was quick to recognize where his team needed him, providing well-placed screens and extensive defense. He knew how to implement his smart passes and skilled shots. And with every action he took on the court, his confidence grew. As did Voltron’s score.

Lance could hear Coran cheering them on alongside Allura.

There was something so satisfying about hearing his old mentor encouraging him from the sidelines. It added to his sense of purpose and filled him with an assurance he didn’t know he needed. One that kept him scoring, making every basket he could to keep Voltron ahead.

He strained to read the court as best he could, trying to catch anything useful in the fast paced match. Streetball was the realm of the quick, being swift was part of the sport’s nature, so he had to pay close attention or he’d chance looking over something integral.

Luckily, he didn’t miss too much and was still able to throw silent suggestions to Keith here and there when their gazes would lock. A couple hand movements and his point guard would know exactly which play he was advising.

Keith was quick to follow through, immediately utilizing his proposals. He was never hesitant to put his trust in Lance. Which Lance definitely had to save thinking about until later. The overwhelming affection would distract him far too much.

Lance remained focused on the match in front of him. 

He concentrated on the addictive adrenaline coursing through him, helping to keep him going. There was a determination driving him as he pushed through for a layup. Lance felt the ball leave his hands and he watched it bounce against the backboard and into the net. Sweet satisfaction flooded his insides.

He was eager to keep Voltron in the lead, but it was tiring work.

Beads of sweat sprouted on Lance’s forehead as he played. His muscles started becoming pleasantly sore with their continued use. He felt his calves complaining as he ran across the court for what felt like the millionth time.

Lance pushed through the exhaustion of nonstop play to make sure each of his teammates had their turn on the bench before he did. It wasn’t a burden his team asked him to bear. It was just something he liked to do. 

Keith often fought with him on it, taking him aside to convince him to rest. Or offer up his own time on the bench, just to make sure Lance actually got some. But Lance never took him up on it. 

Lance liked to think he was actually good at persuading his attractive teammate that he was fine, but the only reason Keith ever acquiesced was probably more due to the fact that the time to switch alternates would run out before Lance would yield. Not that he would ever.

He figured resting during halftime would be more than enough so he managed until then. His aching muscles celebrated once he was finally lounging on the bench. The intensity of his body’s satisfaction surprised him. He must’ve pushed himself harder than he thought. Though, fifteen minutes was more than enough time to rest, so when the buzzer went off to start the third quarter Lance was eager to get back out there. But as he stood to join his team on the court, a strong hand guided him back to the bench.

Lance looked up to catch intense indigo eyes. “Keith, I-”

“No.”

A delicious heat roiled through his gut—maybe even a little lower.

Lance swallowed as he tried to ignore why that turned him on. He just opened his mouth to complain but the look in Keith’s eyes had him closing it again. Lance didn’t think there was a person alive that could silence him with just a look. But Keith was there to prove him wrong.

Seemingly satisfied with Lance’s silence, Keith let go of Lance’s shoulder to join the rest of their team on the court. Leaving Lance to watch him go as he sat there on the bench. And,  _ okay, _ maybe for a couple minutes Lance allowed himself to get completely lost in Keith. In the way his long, dark hair swished with his every movement. In the serious furrow of his beautiful brows. In the way his smooth skin shone with the sweat he worked so hard to earn.

Conclusion: Keith was a worthwhile distraction. One that Lance had to push himself to ignore once again. Their final bracket match was too important to miss. 

Voltron was six points ahead when halftime started. They should’ve been okay. Their competition was tough, but Voltron had been consistently in the lead since the first quarter. His team should’ve been able to keep it up.

But the Yalmores seemed to have an edge.

They finally subbed in their alternate when Lance left the court. An alternate that was proving to be a pain in the ass and his teammates couldn’t even see it. Maybe it was the frustration taking them over since they were five points behind now and didn’t know what was going wrong. They were going through their best plays, defending like they never had before, and it still didn’t completely stop the Yalmores from scoring on them.

But Lance had an advantage being on the bench. He silently sat next to Coran and Allura, examining the opposing team, observing their plays throughout the past quarter. Calmly trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

And it all ultimately led back to that one alternate, number 22.

They were sneaky with it. So much so that Lance didn’t notice it at first, but the longer he examined the match from his outside perspective, he saw what was happening.

“Allura, can you call a quick timeout?” He asked.

“We’d only have one more after it. Is it worth it?”

He nodded. “Watch number 22 closely. Their small stature almost gets lost in that sea of tall bodies, but they’re not lost at all. Number 22 is behind the most crucial supporting roles, easily executing them by squeezing by almost unnoticed. Pidge is doing their best, but number 22 is insanely good at disappearing with the quick help of their teammates. If we replace Pidge with Keith’s keen eye and strength, we won’t be sacrificing speed since they’re both fast as hell. That should be enough to leverage the court and-”

“Why not you?” Coran smiled. “Seems as though you’ve rested enough. Right, Allura?”

Allura nodded. “If you feel fine enough to go back in.”

“Uh, y-yeah. I feel great!”

“Then let’s call a quick timeout.” She offered.

Lance explained what was going on and everyone was eager to implement his new ideas. With them going into the critical six minute stretch, they really needed to make their plays. They were nine points behind and their only hope was to follow through with Lance’s plan.

Number 22 seemed surprised when Lance took his place in front of them.

He didn’t say anything. He just stared at them, making sure his focus wasn’t going unnoticed. 

When the match resumed, Lance didn’t allow number 22 to go anywhere without him right there. He was on their ass, preventing them from making any of the critical passes, shots, or runs they had before.

The Yalmores took notice after Voltron earned a turnover twice in a row, keeping them from scoring. They changed up their tactic and went for killing time. Voltron was only four points behind now and The City Yalmores knew they would win if they could just keep the ball out of Voltron’s hands.

But Lance anticipated their change. He knew it was the next step to take in order for the Yalmores to secure their win, so Voltron ran their newly discussed play. Lance left his defense on 22 when he saw Shiro intercept number 3’s predictably bad pass—Hunk had wonderfully layered the pressure on the guy’s weak side. Lance ran across to Keith’s defender, screening him and allowing for Keith to run down the court with the ball Shiro passed him.

He easily made the layup, putting Voltron only two points behind as the last minute fell on the clock.

Tensions were high as they set up again. Lance knew Keith could do it. He was their golden boy. As great as everyone on Voltron was, Keith was just in a league of his own. His determination to win and succeed was visible in how he played.

The nerves were sickening but Lance’s focus was even more intense. The clock started ticking down and the Yalmores were being extremely stingy with their passes. They knew that running the time and keeping the ball close was their best option.

Lance was having a hard time guarding 22 while simultaneously trying to watch for an opportunity to intercept. He looked away for a split second and turned back to see his opponent catching the ball.

Lance almost groaned at himself for the oversight, but realized… maybe this was a good opportunity. Number 22 wasn’t keen on keeping the ball. They usually passed or escaped to some open area to score, but Lance knew better than to let them move freely. He guarded them with a reignited passion, knowing that if he was careful enough, he could possibly steal.

Lance would just have to wait for the right moment.

Number 22 was getting visibly nervous as Lance put on the pressure. They staggered in an unstable movement, slipping up their dribbling. Lance took that opportunity to seize the ball. 

Keith was already watching when Lance spun around 22 and ran down the court, dribbling toward him

Lance passed and Keith grasped the ball, racing toward the three point line to hopefully put them ahead before the time would run out. Lance watched as he ran after to provide some cover from their charging opponents. 

Time seemed to slow as Keith stopped at the three point line. Lance could hear his blood pumping in his ears. His breathing was heavy as he protected Keith from the rushing players for that one more second he needed to shoot.

Keith released the ball in an unsure arc.

He was nervous. More nervous than Lance had ever seen him. Lance noticed how his hands were shaking in the air as they all waited with baited breath to see if it would make it in.

The basketball bounced up off the rim, straight into the air… and fell back through the net.

Joyous cheers erupted from the crowd as the clock buzzed, ending the game with Voltron ahead by a single point.

They were moving on to the Championships.

Lance stared at the basket, reeling from the relief spreading throughout him. He’d been so tense. So worried. So… _ fuck, _ they won. Voltron won! Lance turned to see Keith standing there, breathing heavily with his cute brows pinched up in exhausted worry.

They had won and Keith was still disappointed in himself. Because they won by chance. Because his shot could’ve gone either way. And Lance knew Keith was beating himself up over it. 

Lance tuned out the noise around him. The large crowd that had gathered for their bracket’s finale. The rest of Voltron shouting with excitement. Even his mentor’s enthusiastic voice shouting at him. There was only the sound of his own heavy breath in his ears as he walked toward Keith with determination pumping through him.

Keith blinked as he came closer and looked up at him with clear frustration in himself. Lance just walked into him, wrapping his arms firmly over his friend’s shoulders. They stood there, chests pressed flush against each other, breathing heavily. 

“I’m proud of you, Keith.”

“Fuck, Lance, I-” His voice nearly cracked.

“You did fucking great, and don’t you think otherwise.” Lance tightened his hug on him, and he felt Keith relax in his arms.

It took a moment before Keith finally brought his arms up to wrap around Lance. He clutched tightly at his back, bringing Lance even closer as he hid his face in his shoulder. Lance smiled against Keith.

“We’re going to the Championships.”

“Yeah.” Keith's breath was warm on his neck. “We sure are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally, I felt like this chapter was subpar so I'm sorry. But there's a point where I have to stop editing and start writing and boy am I glad I did. I can't wait to share ch 12 with you <3
> 
> thanks for reading!~


	12. there are consequences to quoting literature - keith's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there! a new month, a new chapter lol I am sorry about the wait tho. I could've posted this a week ago bc I was waiting on my beta reader (bless her, I love her with all my heart, as I should she's family lol) to help me through ch 13 with constructive criticism but she wasn't available for a while and then when she did go through it she didn't have anything to say other than she may have cried a little lol (I guess this is why ppl have multiple beta readers haha) so I'm still stuck as before but I wanted to post this chapter bc I'm literally so close with finishing 13 up. I hope it's worth the wait <3

Keith couldn’t help the grimace on his face. The upset he felt at his mistake. He’d nearly lost Voltron the game. It was only by stupid luck did the basketball make it in. God, he trained for this! He worked so hard to be at the level of skill he was and that somehow all disappeared when the nerves kicked in, which wasn’t a usual occurrence for Keith. He was all cocky confidence because he  _ knew _ he was competent. He knew he was good. He knew he was better than most of the players competing in the Streetball Competition.

But when Lance gave him that hopeful look…

It fucked with him.

Keith was so determined to not disappoint his team that the anxiety he rarely had saw an opportunity to sneak in. Lance had got in his head with that expectant look of his. But Keith didn’t blame him. No, it was his own fault for even having feelings for his friend. For letting Lance take him over completely.

“I’m proud of you.” Lance’s soft voice reached Keith’s ears as he hugged him.

“Fuck, Lance, I-” He felt his voice nearly crack.

“You did fucking great, and don’t you think otherwise.” Lance’s hold tightened.

Keith couldn’t help but melt in Lance’s arms. More than he probably should’ve but he couldn’t help enjoying it. He couldn’t help how his own arms lifted to wrap around Lance. How he automatically pulled them together and tucked his face into Lance’s shoulder as he felt himself blush.

He couldn’t let anyone see how soft he looked. Or how entirely content he was. Because being there, pressed flush against Lance and surrounded by his warmth, was an astounding comfort.

Lance felt like  _ home. _

After a life of bouncing from orphanage to house to orphanage and not ever finding one that was even remotely close to such a comfort, Keith was surprised to discover it was a  _ person _ that made him feel that way. He hadn’t even considered that. Hadn’t even known it was possible.

All he really knew was that he was hopelessly gone for Lance.

Gone for his laugh. For the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. For the sound of his voice—boisterous volumes included. For his stupid jokes and teasing taunts. For everything that Lance was.

It was sobering when he realized how his ‘like’ turned into… something more. It’d been there for a long time, growing slowly into what it was now—impossible to ignore. 

Keith was all too aware of how his chest clenched in that warm tingly sensation. How his feelings were so much more than he’d ever experienced before or thought possible. That was the only surprising part. Because loving Lance felt incredibly obvious once he realized it. He was a guy Keith had a crush on for the past seven years. He was his first love, and always would be. So it wasn’t some grand moment of enlightenment. It just made sense.

It would always be Lance.

Keith kept his head tucked in Lance’s neck because surely his feelings were blatantly displayed on his face without his approval. So until he could pull himself together, he was just going to have to hide.

Lance was making it awfully hard.

Keith felt his friend’s lips move against his skin, causing his heart to jolt and his chest to tingle. If he hadn’t already known he was in love, he would’ve been convinced he was having cardiovascular issues.

Lance smiled against him. “We’re going to the Championships.” He seemed to bring Keith even closer, which seemed impossible at that point.

His friend was killing him and he didn’t even seem to know it. Hopefully he couldn’t feel how Keith’s heart thudded thunderously in his chest. And if Lance did notice, Keith prayed he would chalk it up to the adrenaline of their match.

“Yeah.” Keith tried to keep his voice even. “We sure are.”

The external world of lively cheering and squeaking sneakers came back to him—he wasn’t sure when it had even left. The commotion around them made him realize that they weren’t alone. That Lance had just hugged him in front of the entire stadium. In front of their team. 

Not that Lance even seemed to care. He still had his arms wrapped around Keith like no one else mattered in that moment and Keith couldn’t help but feel grateful for that. For him.

Lance was a good guy. One who didn’t mind showing his affection and wasn’t embarrassed by it. He hugged his old mentor in front of all the other teams without hesitation. He closely clung to Hunk and Pidge unconcerned with how others perceived him. He held Keith close without a second thought to the crowd or their friends.

Keith adored that about Lance. Even though he was anxious about so many other things, showing his feelings didn’t seem to be one of them. And if that really was the truth, then it solidified the fact he didn’t like Keith in the way Keith liked him. Because he surely would’ve shown it.

Keith finally felt ready to raise his head from Lance’s shoulder. The fluttering in his chest wasn’t calming down but at least his face didn’t feel like it was going to betray him. He felt like he actually had some control back, which was a foolish thought because when did he ever have control over his feelings? 

Shiro caught Keith’s gaze as he lifted his head from Lance’s shoulder. There was a satisfied smirk fixed on his brother’s face, too deliberate to be anything other than Shiro teasing him, but the way his eyes softened told Keith he was pleased. Because they won? Because Keith was hugging a guy he liked? Because Shiro wanted to show his support? It could’ve been any one of those. Or all of the above. But Keith didn’t have the time to delve into it. A sudden urge to separate himself from Lance shot through him. He didn’t really want to, but reading Shiro’s expression had him realizing they’d been hugging for far too long.

As Keith released Lance and tried to peel away, Lance’s hand almost instinctively grasped onto him. Keith’s eyes darted to the hand gripping his arm then up to Lance’s eyes, confusion rippling through him. He couldn’t ignore how his chest warmed at the contact. Lance winced, his face immediately turning apologetic as he let go.

They were captured in each other’s gaze for barely a second before Matt yelled, “I can’t believe we’re moving on to the Champs!!” He came out of nowhere, colliding into Keith and Lance and pulling them back together for a group hug.

Keith’s heart picked up as his arms and body pressed against Lance once again, his hair brushing with Lance’s as Matt held them together. Pidge eagerly joined, clinging to their brother and Lance as the rest of Voltron rushed up for their team hug.

It seemed to make their win all the more real. Even though Keith already knew they were moving on. He knew they won, and yet, it hadn’t felt as satisfying until they were all celebrating together. Like a family.

Hunk sniffled between him and Lance, his sweet emotions seeming to be contagious. Keith could hear the tears of happiness in the sniffles around him. He could hear it in Shiro’s laugh as his brother gripped his shoulder. Hell, he could feel himself getting a little misty eyed.

Allura and Coran were somewhere out there holding onto the group as well, “totally not crying” with everyone else in the group hug. It was nice to be at the center of such love. With Lance. Lance and his hot skin against Keith’s own, nearly driving him mad with the heat.

There was a gentle squeeze at his shoulder—Shiro. It felt teasing, but Keith knew it was just Shiro being an annoying older brother who knew him too well and cared about him too much. It was Shiro being happy for him. Happy for their team. Happy Keith liked a guy and was starting to show it.

“Wonderful job, team. I’m so proud we’re moving onto the Championships.” Coran sniffled from somewhere behind Lance. “Celebratory dinner on me!!” He cheerfully announced, though his voice was still thick with the emotion of it all, and the whole team erupted into cheers of approval.

  
  


Keith stifled a groan—a natural reaction to having just gorged on a meal fit for a small platoon. His gut ached with the abnormal amount of food inside him. He wasn’t one to get treated to a meal often, so he found himself overindulging. The only thing helping him seemed to be the walk home. With Lance at his side.

“I still can’t believe Hunk managed to fit all those mini wieners in his mouth without choking.” Lance breathed an impressed sigh. “I knew he was my friend for a reason.”

Keith couldn’t help thinking there was a joke in there somewhere, but if Lance hadn’t mentioned it then he didn’t feel like there was any point in him trying to. Keith wasn’t good at being the jokester type, especially with all the possibilities of him messing it up somehow. He was better at sarcasm—more insults rolling off the tongue and less creative quips, perverse or otherwise.

He’d leave the laughs to Lance.

“Hunk’s an all around impressive guy.” Keith watched his and Lance’s feet step in sync, walking in and out of night cast shadows and street lamp light.

“A man of many talents.” Lance agreed. “I’m honestly not sure he has a fault.”

Keith looked up to catch Lance’s pensive stare. His cute lips were pursed in thought as his brows furrowed. Beautiful blue eyes looking up and to the left like his brain would come up with the answer if only he gazed in the right direction.

“He’s friends with you.” Keith teased and Lance instantly turned those pretty blues his direction.

Lance’s eyes narrowed at him as he wrinkled his nose. “You’re one to talk! Aren’t you my friend? Doesn’t that mean you have a fault too?” He gibed but his underlying tone claimed he had zero intent to be hurtful.

“I have many faults, for sure.” Keith felt his chest warm as the aching in his belly started subsiding. “But I don’t think you being my friend is one of them.” Lance’s mouth opened but Keith pressed on. “Only because if Hunk is perfect and you’re his friend, then he’s providing you access to all his wonderful qualities, so his only flaw is having a friend that couldn’t possibly give him anything worthwhile back because he’s already perfect. But me, on the other hand, you’re much more wonderful than I could ever be, so your presence and friendship is already incredibly beneficial.”

“… Ignoring your obvious delusioned ideals of friendship, I honestly don’t know whether I should be offended or flattered.” Lance raised an unsure brow.

Keith huffed a laugh, mostly at himself. “Don’t be either. It was a joke.” Mostly. Lance’s presence  _ was _ a blessing to Keith. Still, he really should’ve left the laughs to Lance. “Of course your friendship isn’t a flaw to anyone.” He shook his head, watching the twinkle of city lights illuminate the night.

“Well, if that’s not your flaw, then what is?” Lance sounded genuinely curious.

Keith breathed in deep, cool evening air flooding his nostrils. “There’s too many to even say.” Lance stopped beside him, prompting Keith to stop in his tracks as well. He turned to his friend, eyebrows pinched in curious confusion. “What?”

Lance’s brows were furrowed, but he wasn’t quite frowning. Maybe pouting was the more accurate description. Either way, he was beautiful. Keith couldn’t help the way his eyes softened as they met Lance’s. He knew a corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly at the sight of his friend. His small smirk and sweet gaze didn’t go unnoticed because Lance’s cheeks flushed a brilliant red as he stared back—still determined to keep his expression of disapproval.

“What? What did I say?” Keith managed to keep his smile small, though he lost in trying to suppress it completely.

“You…” Lance seemed to get lost in Keith’s face for a moment before he continued. “You’re so annoying. You have, like, hardly any flaws and here you are spouting shit like ‘oh i have too many faults to even say.’” Lance attempted a Keith impersonation that Keith was eager to never hear again.

“First of all, I don’t sound like that.” Keith gave him a look. “Second, if you don’t believe me, then let me spell them out for you.” He turned back to continue walking with Lance quick to catch up to his side. “One, I suck at interacting with people-”

“Erhn!” Lance made an obnoxious buzzer noise. “Not true. We interact just fine, even before we were friends.”

Keith sighed, not believing that. “Let me rephrase then. I suck at most social situations, including my job, talking to new people-”

“Erhn!” Lance sounded again and Keith huffed. “You talked to me just fine when we first met.”

“Stop trying to be nice. I know I was awkward-still  _ am _ awkward, but-”

“Is that really a flaw? It’s kinda sweet, but also just a  _ you _ thing.” Lance shrugged.

Keith wanted to be mad that Lance kept interrupting him but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to feel upset. “Okay, well I consider being bad at communicating a flaw, so yes, it is.”

“Dude, I can read you like a book. You don’t have to voice everything to communicate. Your expressions show a helluva lot to a trained eye.” He seemed satisfied with himself.

Keith’s feet somehow managed to keep walking as his heart tripped over itself. “Are you saying you’re fluent in my nonverbal communications?” He tried to keep his voice calm. Casual.

Lance huffed a laugh as they slowed to a stop front of Keith’s building. “No,” he smirked. “I’m saying I graduated summa cum laude in Keith Communications from Keithy Boy University.” He quirked his brows.

“I don’t believe that.” Keith rolled his eyes to further his point and hopefully throw Lance off the trail of how nervous he was. His hands started to sweat before he sat down on his front steps, his heart speeding up even faster when Lance joined him, sending his thudding heart into a terrifying fervor.

Keith focused on maintaining his composure, ignoring the questions floating around in his head. Could Lance see how much he liked him? Did he read Keith’s wanting looks and just pretend not to notice? Did he even care?

“Just admit it, Keith.”—Keith looked over to see Lance giving him a lopsided grin—“You’re an amazing guy, and anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Your one flaw and all.” Lance teased.

Keith huffed a laugh, gazing into Lance’s eyes with an incredulous look that uncontrollably turned into a tender stare. He honestly couldn’t help it, even knowing that Lance may be able to read him well. Even knowing he might find out his feelings. Lance just made him feel all warm and tingly inside. He made him feel comfortable and cherished. And not alone.

“Lance, I…” He breathed the words but nothing else followed them. All he could do was feel the warming in his chest as he looked at Lance like he was the best thing in the universe. He knew he should probably reign it in because surely if Lance could read him as well as he claimed then there was no way he wouldn’t see the love in Keith’s eyes.

Their friendship was still important to him.

But if somehow Lance felt the same way-

“S-Sivad?”

“What?” Keith blinked, feeling the heat of their moment dissipating.

“Have you, uh, ever read any Sivad novels?” Lance’s eyes flicked around—to the street, the tree growing in the open sidewalk, down at his hands… then slowly back to Keith’s face, dark lashes waiting for Keith’s answer.

“Uh, I might have.” He tried to wrack his brain for any titles but couldn’t remember any. It’d been so long since he read something other than his technical books.

“What about  _ Echo, My Soul _ ?” Lance’s voice was barely above a whisper, but that wasn’t why a shiver ran down Keith’s back. No, his skin prickled with recognition. 

“Yeah.” Keith matched Lance’s tone as he watched Lance mess with his hands like they were the most interesting thing. “I think I read it a few years ago.”

It was a tragic book, from Keith’s perspective. Though, some would argue it was wildly romantic. Which Keith could see, but it was still an unsettling tale weaved with far too many grievous themes for him to consider a romance novel. Wonderfully effective in provoking emotions, but depressing as all hell. It was an interesting read to say the least.

Lance seemed to slightly fidget in his spot. “There’s, uh, this quote…”—he looked over to meet Keith’s gaze—“that kind of reminds me of you.”

“Me?” Keith nearly laughed. He only knew two quotes from that book and he didn’t think either suited him, but he was curious as to what Lance knew. “Okay, let’s hear it.” He waited, ready for some gloomy line that was probably about how he was as dark and unfriendly as a bitter night.

“I-It’s kinda short and maybe a little weird, but-”

“Lance.” Keith gave him a casual smile, trying to calm himself more than Lance really, because his friend was acting as though it was going to be something meaningful. And Keith’s heart really wouldn’t be able to take that—having someone quote an earnest line to him would make him incredibly weak—so he just acted like everything was fine. Like it was probably just some joke. “Just say it.”

Lance took a steadying breath as he gazed into Keith’s soul. “‘His eyes were that of fire—one that certainly consumed me.’”

Keith’s heart stopped at the words. He searched Lance’s ocean eyes, looking for an explanation or some teasing nature that would help him understand why he had just said that. It didn’t make sense. Lance was always pulling away, making jokes, asking the most random questions whenever they had a special moment together. Why was he bringing that up now? What did he mean by it? Did he mean anything at all?

The words grabbed Keith by the heart, filling his chest with unfair feelings of want and longing.

“I-I’m sorry.” Lance leaned back as his cheeks flushed, probably feeling uncertain in his actions since Keith just stared at him without saying anything—he couldn’t help that Lance’s words had struck him dumb. “I didn’t mean to make you feel weird o-or uncomfortable-”

Keith finally found his voice. “N-no. You didn’t… I would let you know if you ever made me feel uncomfortable.” He promised, then let out a ragged breath—not entirely sure what to say to that. “It, uh… that was an interesting quote, but I think I like the one about life and all its unending anguish better.” He teased with a gentle smirk—glad to have found some words, even as mood ruining as they were.

Lance rolled his eyes, but a small smile curled onto his face, putting Keith at ease. “You mean the whole book?”

“Exactly.” Keith’s lips quirked up. “But no, I actually do like that one quote where she’s like ‘I had no interest in fascinating people, for their words dwelled with lies.’”

Lance snorted. “Okay, good quote, but that wasn’t even close!”

Keith instantly straightened. “It was to!” He was clearly a child.

“No, no.” Lance shook his head, still amused. “It’s ‘I had no concern in those who were fascinating, for their tongues dwelled with lies.’”

Keith shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“It was closer than yours!” Lance bumped their shoulders together.

Keith retaliated by knocking Lance’s leg with his own. “I highly doubt that.”

“Well, let’s go look right now! You own it, yeah?” Lance started to move, but Keith touched his shoulder and he instantly stilled.

Keith was almost shocked at how his hand seemed to possess some kind of power, but he pushed himself past it, taking his hand back in case he somehow swayed Lance further. “I don’t have a copy, no. I borrowed the book from Shiro when I first read it.”

“Well, I have it. We can check it at my house.” Lance offered, seeming eager to prove his version was more accurate than Keith’s.

It felt nice to banter again, so Keith didn’t mention the use of their phones, which would make their search easier and ultimately end their back and forth quicker. No, he liked Lance’s idea, and his heart raced with the opportunity of visiting Lance’s home.

Where his family would be.

Keith felt a slight worry about having to meet them. Not because he thought Lance’s younger sister, the one who’s name he swore started with an R, would recognize him, but because it was Lance’s real family. The people who mattered to him most. What if they met Keith and didn’t like him?

“Won’t your family be upset that you’re bringing someone over?” Keith felt nerves growing in his stomach.

Lance just gave him a weird look, and Keith remembered that not everyone had the same experiences he did. That some families were actually happy and loving. Some parents actually cared for their kids and didn’t mind visitors.

Lance shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t care, but that doesn’t really matter because they’re at my sister’s place anyway. No one’s home.”

“O-oh.” Keith felt even more nervous than he previously had. “Shouldn’t you go to your sister’s so you can all celebrate the win, though?”

Why the hell was he trying to push Lance away? This was a good opportunity to see his home and grow even closer to him. He needed to stop going back and forth with his feelings. Either he would feel them and let Lance see, or hide them and never say a word. It was unfair to do both.

Lance’s excitement seemed to falter for a second. “Uh, no. They don’t know about the team. Yet! I’m gonna tell Mamá like tomorrow or something. I just wanted to wait until we got into the Championships.” He scratched the back of his head then jumped up, seeming to have found his energy once again. “So are you coming or what?” He grinned.

“Sure. Yeah.” Keith nodded, his heart racing nauseously inside him once again.

“Okay, let’s go!” Lance grabbed Keith's hand and pulled him up.

Keith barely had a chance to collect himself before Lance was tugging them down the street, dodging the night pedestrians with a flavored enthusiasm. Their usual pace was tossed aside for Lance’s broken skipping. Keith laughed as he tried to keep up with him, enjoying the feeling of Lance’s hand in his.

Neither mentioned it, but neither let go.

That had to mean something, right? Lance didn’t just go around holding everyone’s hand. It wasn’t like a hug. It was something more intimate. Something special. Something they shared even as they continued to argue about who was more accurate and a few more quotes were spouted, causing more banter to ensue.

After a couple minutes, Lance returned to a causal gait out of habit.

Their hands were still intertwined when they reached the front of Lance’s building. It wasn’t until Lance had to search for his keys in his jean pockets did he let go. And by then, Keith was already so high with the sweetness of it. His heart was rapidly filling with warmth and he wasn’t sure how much more he could bear before exploding.

He felt fortunate for the break. Not only did it grant his heart a breather, but it gave him a moment to really admire Lance’s outfit. They didn’t usually pack jeans for their after-game clothes to change into, but Keith was glad Allura told them all to pack something nice enough to eat in afterwards, win or lose.

Luckily they won. With the added bonus of seeing Lance in casual clothes for the second time.

They were hardly ever together if they weren’t working out or training, so seeing him wear something other than basketball shorts and baggy cutoffs was refreshing. Especially with the way his tight jeans accentuated his long legs. The clean rips revealed Lance’s impossibly cute knees. And that was an odd thought because Keith had never thought of knees being cute, but Lance’s definitely were.

Once the building door was unlocked, Lance guided Keith up four flights and down a couple hallways before stopping in front of a plain door with the number 405 hanging on it.

Keith felt his heart pick up.

He wondered if Lance had felt like that when he was about to enter Keith’s apartment. Because he finally understood what his slight hesitation had been about. It was exciting, but almost dizzyingly so. Like he couldn’t wait, yet wanted to take his time. Or better yet, not go in at all because he sort of felt nauseous, but in a good way. 

God, his thoughts were a rambling mess.

Lance pushed open the door, revealing a place of immediate warmth. And it wasn’t the temperature. No, the apartment itself gleefully shouted  _ I’m a home! People love and are loved here! _

Keith almost felt overwhelmed with the sense of  _ family _ it gave him. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to.

He wasn’t able to soak it all in because Lance was quick to take his hand again—making his heart soar—and led them down a hall. “My room’s this way. Sorry it’s messy, but you knew it was gonna be like that.” He threw a grin over his shoulder.

Keith felt an infectious smile curling onto his face. “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.”

Lance gave him a teasing glare as they walked into his room. 

He let go of Keith’s hand to grab the book, giving Keith a moment to observe Lance’s room. Which was exactly how he’d imagined, but, somehow, so much better. Posters covered the walls, haphazardly hung up in unique and crooked ways. A bookcase stood tall to the left—shelves lined with books and knick-knacks alike. A dark wood desk sat under the only window of the small room, harboring more trinkets on top with drawers that no doubt held important things and probably more junk that Keith wouldn’t be able to help but find endearing.

And while there was all that to see, it wasn’t the first thing he really noticed.

No, the scent of  _ Lance  _ filled his nostrils before anything else could gain his attention. Keith nearly blushed at how comforting he found it. His heart flipped as his stomach churned. And standing in the middle of Lance’s room, having nothing to do with his hands, was starting to make him nervous.

Lance seized the book and turned on a small lamp before sitting on his bed. 

He looked up when Keith didn’t move. 

“C’mere.” Lance patted the spot next to him.

_ Oh god.  _

Keith was going to die. He would be sitting on Lance’s adorable, light blue checkered covers with him in his freaking room. Maybe coming to Lance’s home wasn’t the best idea because just looking at Lance’s sweet face made his chest heave with the thick and heavy heat of longing. Of the feelings he harbored.

But the way Lance’s beautiful lips curled up into a small smile moved Keith’s feet. He sat next to Lance regardless of the butterflies flitting about in his chest. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to offend his friend by not taking up his offer. But Keith knew the truth. That he was just awfully weak for Lance.

He watched Lance open up the dark book, flipping through it until he quickly found the correct page. Impressively so. It was almost like he knew what exact page it was on. But as Keith looked closer, he noticed little markings in the margins. Lightly scored lines drawn carefully with pencil, pointing to certain passages for easy access. Some had actual notes while others only claimed the line and maybe a heart or star. There was an obvious rating system within the realm of his marks.

Keith only smiled to himself, afraid he’d disturb the air between them if he said something. It felt as though anything could ruin their moment. A subtle shift. A too heavy breath. A word spoken at any volume. It would most certainly dispel the whole dreamy atmosphere of being alone with Lance in his bedroom. It would make everything disappear and reveal that Keith had been dreaming all along.

But as Lance moved closer, bumping their legs together and pressing his arm flush against Keith, he proved the reality of it all. His warm skin provided a reassurance to Keith’s state of being. He wasn’t dreaming. The Lance sitting oh so close next to him, pointing out their quote, was entirely real.

“‘I invested no concern for the infinitely fascinating, for their tongues dwelled with deceit.’” Lance read as Keith enjoyed the gentle margin markings. It was only when Lance hummed did Keith breakaway from the page to look at him. “So… I think it’s safe to say I was definitely closer.” His bright eyes flicked to Keith’s as a defiant smirk curled onto his face.

Keith rolled his eyes, smiling back as his retort left his tongue with ease. “I think it’s safe to say you’re a dirty cheat.”

Lance gasped dramatically. “How so?”

“You’ve obviously recently read it. Which counts as cheating because I had to rely on my long-term memory while you were fresh off it.” Keith gently bumped him with their touching arms.

“That’s hardly cheating.” Lance shook his head. “I was just using my resources.” He stated, a mischievous smirk climbing onto his face. “I can’t help that I’m smarter than you.”

It was probably true—no, most definitely true—but just the way Lance said it had Keith instantly smiling, amusement bubbling in his gut. Keith felt the laugh reverberate through him. It shook in his chest as it rolled up and out of his mouth, tipping his head back with the pure audacity of his friend’s playful nature. “You are so-” 

Keith’s tongue stilled, his lost words hanging in the air as his mouth went slack. It was almost as if the breath had been pulled from his lungs, leaving his mouth still and vacant—the ghost of what was once a lively orifice.

With his head tilted back, Keith finally noticed the faint, plastic stars stuck to the white plaster above them.

His eyes roamed across the ceiling as a breath of disbelief escaped him. One full of awe, because he’d never imagined Lance would still have his silly little gift pressed along the entirety of his ceiling. The glow in the dark stars that Keith spent months saving up for. They were still a part of Lance’s life. A constant reminder of their past. 

Guilt throbbed in Keith’s chest and panged in his melting heart.

As terrified as he was of Lance finding out, he was even more scared of Lance finding out on his own. And if he hadn’t done his best to push his lie to the back of his head, almost forgetting it completely at times, then he would’ve realized that telling Lance himself would save them both heartache. Lance would undoubtedly have a harder time coming to terms with Keith’s lie if he found out himself and confronted Keith about it, because then Keith would admit he knew and had kept it from him. At least if Keith told him himself he could own up to it. Take responsibility for being an unintentional dumbass.

Perhaps a part of him just wanted Lance to finally know. To not only get the truth out in the open so he could get the heaviness off his chest, but to face Lance’s disappointment. To feel the heartache he caused. The anger he deserved. Because maybe things between them were going too well. Heaven knew Keith wasn’t accustomed to anything as good as Lance.

He lowered his face to bring his attention back to Lance, who was flipping through the pages of the book once again.

Keith swallowed thickly. “Lance, I need to tell you something.” 

“Are you about to admit you were wrong?” He smiled, still focused on the inked paper.

“No, I-”

“Then I don’t wanna hear it, Mr. Sass.” Lance looked up from his book to throw a smirk Keith’s way.

“Lance, really-”

“Oh, I know! You’re going to call me a cheater again.” Lance playfully narrowed his eyes as he leaned into Keith’s personal space. “I bet you’re just mad you were less right than me.”

Lance was intoxicatingly close, and though he should’ve been, Keith wasn’t in the mood to be cautious. Maybe it was the adrenaline of potential confessions that had him leaning in, because he stilled himself a foot away from Lance’s face, returning the teasing look of intensity.

“I was definitely more right than you, but no,” he dragged his eyes across Lance’s face, memorizing every dip and curve and beautiful freckle that graced his sight. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Keith whispered.

Lance’s lids lowered over his beautiful blues as he stared back. “Then what?”

Keith felt a sensation taking them over. Low and hot—a welcomed feeling. It hung in the air, magical and exciting like stardust. It sent Keith’s heart into a fury, tingling his thudding heart with a heat so overwhelming he couldn’t help but get lost in it.

The magnetism between them was palpable, heat thick and throbbing as they breathed in each other. Their faces were so close, yet too far. One purposeful shift and they’d collide.

Keith was being pulled in and he wasn’t sure why Lance decided this was the moment he wasn’t going to interrupt, but Keith certainly wasn’t going to complain. Not when Lance was leaning in just as he was—tortuously slow, but wonderfully so.

Courage coursed through Keith’s veins as his chest heaved with his feelings. His gaze flicked to Lance’s lips—previous thoughts and potential confessions lost to him now. His own lips burned with the attention of a hot gaze. Keith swallowed as he glanced up to see Lance looking down.

Keith’s eyes were half-lidded as they leaned in even closer than before. The heat around them heightened, throbbing with feelings and buzzing electricity across his skin. He could feel the warmth emanating from Lance’s face, and  _ god, this is really happening.  _ Keith’s heart was light—full of desirous butterflies that were in disbelief that any of this was actually happening.

Their lips were an inch away when Keith caught movement. Lance’s eyes fluttered shut and as much as Keith didn’t want to lose the moment to the darkness behind his lids, he closed his eyes as well because that was just what people did when they kissed.

The lightest touch of a soft warmth grazed Keith’s lips before-

“Lance!” A shrill voice squeaked out in surprise from the doorway. 

Keith instantly flew back, opening his eyes to frantically assess the situation.

He caught a glimpse of Lance’s shocked features before turning around to face the door. To see a beautiful young woman. Dark brown hair cascading to her hips and bright, round eyes that matched her slack mouth.

“Rachel!” Lance’s voice broke, nearly squeaking.  _ Rachel! That was her name. _ Keith knew it started with an R. “W-w-why are you home?” He stood.

Rachel’s “o” of a mouth slowly morphed into a curling smile. “Oh, I was just, uh, you know… coming to see if you wanted a ride to Ronnie’s. Who’s this?” She asked but didn’t give Keith nor Lance time to answer. “Keith, I assume.” A wickedly mischievous edge overcame her grin.

“Uh, y-yeah. Rachel, this is Keith. Keith, this is Rachel, my sister.” Lance introduced, his chest heaving—nervousness obvious in his voice.

“Hi.” Keith managed.

“Hi.” Rachel echoed, but her voice produced the word like honey. Syrupy sweet with the promise of something sticky. A tenacity of underlying amused curiosity.

There was a silence for a moment. Keith stared at Rachel, feeling Lance’s gaze switch between him and Rachel as Rachel kept her mischievous eyes pinned on Keith.

He felt his heart racing desperately in his chest. He needed to leave. “Thank you.” Keith spouted, standing with one swift motion. “Uh, thanks, I mean, for showing me the book.” He looked to Lance, seeing his round eyes soften in Keith’s gaze. “I-I should get going. So-”

“Keith.” Lance’s brows knitted upwards in a silent apology. “I-you, uh, you can stay if you want. Rachel was just leaving.” He gave her a pointed glare.

“So soon?” Rachel seemed to tease.

“No.” Keith shook his head, feeling his hands starting to shake with the reality of it all. “No, I should get home. Thank you for everything. Nice meeting you.” He breathed as he passed Rachel.

He could hear whispers as he sped-walked to the front door, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He just needed to get out of there. He flew out the door and down the stairs. 

Cold night air nipped at his skin as he raced down the sidewalk.

He didn’t stop until he was behind his apartment door, chest heaving with his forceful breaths. Lungs aching with overwhelming use. Heart breaking at his own stupidity.

“Fuck.” Keith whispered to himself, sliding down his locked door.

He landed on his welcome mat, sitting on the dirty thing without a care because he had just kissed Lance. KISSED  _ LANCE. _ Well… it wasn’t exactly a kiss. Maybe like a half kiss because their lips touched but barely—so lightly it was like they hadn’t even touched at all. But Keith was going to fucking count it because his lips touched Lance’s and Lance’s touched his! Lance leaned in! He wanted to! That had to mean he liked him too, right?

Keith groaned before resting his head in his arms on his knees.

He wanted to be mad at himself for getting distracted. For not telling Lance the truth. He wanted to receive the punishment he deserved and instead he got a gift he wasn’t worthy of.

It was hard to feel anything other than the throbbing satisfaction in his chest. He couldn’t help how his heart, for one little second, had finally been full. Had panged with sweetness instead of his usual longing. It was everything he wanted and knew he couldn’t have.

Not until he told Lance the truth.

He couldn’t keep his secret anymore.

Keith didn’t know how long he sat there, catching his breath and thoroughly feeling the sweetness in his heart, but it couldn’t have been that long. His ass wasn’t yet aching from sitting on the hard floor. 

He’d just decided he should probably stand when a frantic knock reverberated through the door behind him. His brows knit in confusion as he stood, eagerly looking out the peephole to see a heavy breathing Lance standing outside.

Keith immediately unlocked his door and flung it open. “Lance, what are you-”

“What’s your name?” He breathed forcefully, eyes full of frantic curiosity.

“I, uh,  _ what?  _ ”

“What’s your name, Keith?” He repeated, a desperation in his eyes.

_ Oh. _

“Keith.” He answered, then swallowed thickly—heart beating hard and fast in his chest, panging with a concerned preparedness for what was about to happen. “But it used to be Yurak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eye emoji* oh boi... what's gonna happen?! (sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger?? lol <3)
> 
> the book and quotes are all made up bc I didn't want to actually look up any so might as well make my own haha
> 
> I just wanna say, get ready for some feels man. It's not like crazy or anything but I am living for writing these emotional scenes ^-^
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3


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